34th Hunger Games CLOSED!
by iluvmusicsomuch
Summary: <html><head></head>Hi guys. Sorry I haven't updated, I lost some stuff, so it won't be easy, everything is out of order! Anyway, I'll work on the training, since I lost ALL my material for the rest of the Chariots, but don't worry, I'll still get yours. Thank you</html>
1. District 1 Reapings

It was reaping day. Even if one didn't know, it was made plain and obvious. Nearly everyone was up and about, buying roses, getting dressed in their reaping clothes, which were the finest clothes they could find. Adults were getting their work done. The Peacekeepers were roaming around, keeping things more in order than ever. The schoolyard was empty as always and few children were out of their homes. The tributes were especially preparing for what would come ahead. This year, only so many people had taken the tessarae.

It was a chilly day, with an ice cold wind blowing across the district. But no one was prepared for it. The reaping clothes consisted of no over cover. So you could say that nearly everyone was nearly freezing. All the little children were scattered around the town, playing games, singing songs to celebrate reaping day, for all they knew was that it was a day of celebration. The older children were in their houses, being decorated in their best clothes and accessories, which were not hard to find in District 1. The adults of course, were preparing their children and praying for odds to be in their favor. Suddenly, a loud, shrill bell rang across the town. As if by magic, everyone stopped and listened. This could mean one thing, the Games were on.

It was time, no doubt. The children finished their songs and games, the tributes put on their last accessories, the adults said their last prayers. It was time. The Head Peacekeeper, Bontrilius Romaker, guarded the only entrance to the nicely decorated Square. The square looked luxurious with gold and silver outlining it. It was certainly unfit for a horrible event such as the reaping. In a short time, people were lining up at the entrance. Bontrilius explained the concept before letting anyone it.

"Now! Adults will file in near the lower right, close to the stage. Younger or older children than needed will be on the left. Tributes will take up the entire back. Everyone must have at least one offer to our generous tributes. Now, do as I say, or whoever doesn't will be punished."

One could say that the Peacekeeper was in complete charge. There was no doubt that anyone would be fearful of the man. He was tall and broad, like any normal coal miner, with dark skin, and ripped muscles across his back. He had a whip in hands and a sword in the other. His voice was deep, booming, and sharp. His face showed no emotion, except harshness. So the people filed in quickly without speaking. The only sound was the soft pattering of feet. The adults and younger children went in first, their feet skittering against the gold and silver floors nervously. The stage was covered in all kinds of goods and looked almost beautiful, except for the blood of tributes, seemingly spattered on them. A large podium was the middle of the grand and beautiful stage. Everyone held their roses and pressed them against their lips, these were for the tributes, they deserved it more than ever. No could tell why this Hunger Games felt so cruel and harsh, it was no different than any other. It got worse every year, perhaps. The tributes were last to enter. Bontrilius waved his hand at the crowd of people inside the Square. They all turned around. The tributes were lined in rows of three, a girl in the middle of two boys. They held hands as they entered. The people waved, shouted, and cheered upon their entrance, while their hearts panged worse than ever. When all the tributes entered. The younger tributes were in the front, and the oldest in the back. Their faces were solemn and serious with no aspect of happiness or goodness. Anyone, seeing these poor teenagers ; alone, wolf-like, they would've surely kneeled over and sobbed at the top of their lungs.

When the cheering died down, nothing was heard, no footsteps, whispering or anything. Tension slowly built in the air. At this signal, Bontrilius made his way towards the stage. As he did, a large opening appeared in the crowd, allowing him to go through without any trouble. His stare was cruel and straight ahead. He was now the fear of everyone in the Square, with a stare of his, the entire District would have fallen on their knees and kissed the cold, almost lifeless hands. But he showed his stare to nobody, and they all stayed on their feet with their lips hushed. He climbed up to stairs and stood straight and tall at the podium. Then, he began to speak.

"Citizens of District 1, the district of luxurious good, welcome to the 34th Hunger Games!" And out of force, the unhappy crowd cheered and screamed.

"Calm down! Today, we will be selecting tributes to enter the Hunger Games." He announced.

The tributes raised their arms to the sky and bent towards the floor, a sign of helplessness towards the Capitol. The Head Peacekeeper gave them a cruel smirk that could've killed. No one moved from their positions and watched unhappily. He then continued his speech.

"And now, we salute the Capitol for their greatness" he commanded.

Everyone turned towards the stage as the anthem of Panem played, a loud, lively tune which no doubted symbolized the power of the Capitol and the weakness of the Districts. When the anthem ended, the entire place remained silent. No one moved or made a sound, anxiety and fear overwhelmed the place.

"Now, we welcome our escort from the great Capitol itself, Wilma Reesh!" the Peacekeeper shouted.

For a moment everyone was silent. Then, at the crack of his whip, the entire place went crazy with cheers and roars of supposed happiness. Suddenly, the escort entered. The reason they did not clap was because this was a change. Their first escort had been executed, because she had shown kind pity towards the districts. This was certainly a change. She was very short, only five foot one with a pretty air. She had beady green eyes, a smooth mouth, and the palest face one could ever see. It was artificially white, which was obviously done by the Capitol. Her hair was as well unnaturally yellow. Anyone from these Districts would have spat in her face and called her a clown, but no one dared. She looked like a daisy with her draping green dress. It looked like a gorgeous green wedding dress, but no one paid any attention to that. She then smiled at the crowd to show them, that she was never going to be sympathetic. They smiled back and waved affectionately.

"Hello District 1! Gods this is exciting! I just can't wait. Right now, I want to thank the Capitol for choosing me now. This is going to be great. Let's hear some cheers for the Capitol!"

The District cheered, she smiled even larger.

"And now, we will choose our tributes, ladies first" she laughed merrily as she reached for the ladies hat.

Now the tension had expanded by twice as much as it had before. The girls' hearts were pounding. Wilma's hand searched within the hat before pulling out a name. Everyone quivered unhappily as she reached it up to read. Everyone's throats turned dry with fear as she read the name.

"And the tribute for the ladies, is…" Wilma paused to make sure the crowd was listening and having pains.

"Congratulations! Aurora McQueen!" Wilma shouted happily and the spotlight pointed to the poor girl.

Cheers arose from the crowd as the spotlight revealed a tall girl with auburn hair and hazel eyes. Her eyes showed no real surprise as she quickly made her away from the tributes area to the stage. Wilma smiled and kissed her on the cheek. In surprise and hate towards the Capitol, Aurora stepped backwards with a hateful looked. Wilma did not look surprised nor did she seem to care. But she held the girl's arm up high as flowers, goods, and food showered upon the girl. Aurora smirked and waved towards the crowd in response. There was great happiness in the crowd, for seeing a tribute so willing to enter. The Head Peacekeeper pulled Aurora backwards as he walked up to the podium.

"Shut up! Unless you wish to be punished" He threatened as he cracked the whip in the air.

The Square fell silent, but the happiness had not faded. They had hope, that their District would win this year!

"Now the gentlemen" Wilma announced as she girlishly flicked her hand into the boys' names. Tension once again filled the place. Her hand moved less and she pulled out the name in no time, and then read it aloud.

"For the gentleman tribute, Nate Morgue"

This time, the crowd froze, for they all knew the boy. The light turned on a boy in the back. His face, unlike Aurora's, showed no emotion. He cast his eyes on his shocked family below. No tears, nor fear struck his face, which was slightly handsome. His long black came to his neck and he had hazel brown eyes. His skin was slightly tanned from work. He was a good height, about five ft. eight. However, he wasn't very well-built either. Suddenly, there was loud sobbing from the crowd, his family. Bontrilius scowled and made his way towards the crying family. Seeing him crack his whip. Nate ran towards him. But luckily for both, since Nate was not feeling most gracious. Bontrilius only escorted his weeping family out of the Square. Nate sighed unhappily and approached the stage, the crowds watched sadly, unable to cry or cheer. That wasn't until the Head Peacekeeper made his way back, then they began cheering happily, throwing more roses and goods. Both tributes took a bow, after that, the Head Peacekeeper and Wilma escorted them to the building near. When he did, the crowds began to jumble together, both celebrating and crying together.


	2. The Visitors

_Au_The two Peacekeepers, including the Head Peacekeeper and a younger one escorted Nate and Aurora inside. The younger one took Nate in the building and sat him down on a nice blue and golden sofa. And without word, Nate was alone in a few seconds. His face still showed no emotion, but his heart held something different. His white and blue shirt looked navy in the darkness of the room. There wasn't a single window in the room that wasn't covered by black drapes. Nate could remember seeing many tributes before, enter this building, to die.

Nate tried desperately to calm himself. If a girl like Aurora could do it, why not him? After all, it was nearly obvious he would've been picked. He had his name put it for the entire family! And now he was going off, to the Hunger Games. He shuddered silently. Who would take care of his family? Who would take care of him? Who was rooting for him out there? Obviously, Aurora had a better chance than he, so why go for him? Wilma Reesh entered the room, her daisy-like attitude and look. She smiled a perfect white smile at him which disgusted him. He now understood people's hateful feelings towards the ugliness of the Capitol. Their want to prove that they're more than just a peice at their Games. Nate considered how much he would love to show them that, show them he was more then just a simple little helpless peice in the Games.

"So how're you feeling honey?" Wilma asked sitting uncomfortably close to him.

Nate pushed himself a little bit away from her, not enough to show however.

"I'm fine" he told her flatly, he certainly wasn't up for a conversation, put of course Wilma piped on.

"Oh gods! This year is going to be soooo exciting! With you and that girl, it's totally going to be the best Games ever!" she shrieked at the end and fell backwards.

Nate watched in anguish. He secretly wondered if all the Capitol's people were like his escort. Maybe yes, maybe no. Surely in his time there, he would get to know the people. Not that he would want to, but it had to be done, if he was to win the games. Or maybe he didn't want to win, maybe he didn't want to win fot the amusement of the Capitol people. Time would come, and surely he would be forced to win or die, but until then...

"So Nate! Are you excited for the Hunger Games?" she asked cheerfully, leaning so her flowery breath was nearly contaminating Nate's face.

"Mm" he hummed looking forward.

A sharp pang at the door sent both of them in a jolt. Nate and Wilma bumped together awkwardly in the jump. Nate pushed back, engrossed, but Wilma just giggled.

"I bet that's your first visit. Last good-byes are always so touching aren't they?" she then disappeared behind the door, and Nate's mother entered.

Seeing his mother, Nate tried to hide his head, but she was already at his side, crying. No, crying wasn't the right word, sobbing in the worst way. Nate then could no longer stand it. He ignored his mother's pregnancy and flung himself into her arms as they cried unhappily together. No sound was heard except the drops of tears and Stella Morgue's mutterings, "Oh my little boy, my darling boy". Nate suddenly realized that his mother was in great need of comfort. He then pulled away and looked her in the eyes.

"Don't be so sad Mom. You still have that baby don't you!" he touched her stomach, while his own churned with complete misery.

"Oh I couldn't stand to loose you, and neither can your siblings. They can't stand to see you now."

Nate felt tears coming to his eyes and feared he would cry again.

"What about Amanda, and my friends!" he cried out.

She touched his face and kissed his cheek gently, as if afraid to hurt him. Suddenly Bontrilius burst through the door with an exeedingly angry look on his face.

"Times up, let in the next visitor!"

Mrs. Morgue got up, with a look that told everyone of her struggle. She again, kissed her son, knowing it might be the last kiss she would ever give him. She then left, with tears flowing down her face at a scarily rapid speed. She exchanged embraces with Mr. Morgue, who had just entered. Nate's father took one look at his son and held out his arms. Nate fled into them and felt their warmth and strength. It was the warmest moment they had shared for years, and Nate wanted it to never end. But about a minute later, it did end. In his father's looks, he felt confidence rising in him, maybe he would be able to win afterall, for his friends and his family. But then again, almost everyone would be doing that.

When they pulled away, his father signaled that he would be going for him and that he had confidence he would win. Nate eyes filled with tears. He signaled back that he would fight in their name. His father left a kiss on his forehead before leaving the room at the Peacekeepers instructions. Tears flooded Nate's face, he'd never see any of them again, not his siblings nor his friends. The sound of footsteps came close. Suddenly, Nate turned around. However, the Peacekeeper's foot went down on the pavement before the door could open.

"No more visits, time's up" he boomed shoving the mysterious person back.

The voices of his friends began to protest, but then the crack of the whip silenced them. Nate's fear got to him and he jumped to his feet in fear.

"Let them in please" he begged in a loud protestant voice.

Bontrilius looked inside the door and saw Nate's expression. He then turned to them and cracked his whip.

"You have two minutes, understand, each of you!"

There were whispers of response and the door flung open to full extent. And who should come in but his sister Amanda. She had large cheeks and a rosy face that no one could miss. She was crying and Nate felt sorry for all the times he had teased and made fun of her. Now, he realized that she just a poor little girl, trapped in an ugly world. He picked her up in a hug as she sobbed louder and louder. It hurt wose than receiving his death sentence, but now he had to comfort someone who had to witness it. It was the first time he had thought of other families mourning their own children's deaths. It was as if she had been picked instead of him. And no one could volunteer for her, except for Isabella, but Isabella had other things to worry about.

"Nate! Don't go!" she sobbed.

Nate sighed sadly and pulled away and looked her in the eye.

"I have to go honey" he tried to smoothen his voice, to make it sound as if it were nothing, but it was something, and it wasn't good either.

"No!"

"Yes honey, yes! Please! You're the oldest now, take care of the family the best you can, understand." He sounded firm, but oddly gentle.

Trying to clear her tears, Amanda nodded. Nate kissed her forehead.

"You're very brave. And with the tessarae I took, there'll be enough food for you and our family, so don't take it please. I want you to live." he choked up on the last word.

Amanda held onto him.

"And what if you die?" the question did not please Nate, but an answer would please his gentle little darling sister.

"Then I'll go to heaven"

"Will you be happy there?"

"Yes!" Nate lied looking down. "I'll be an angel and I'll watch over you, maybe give you some luck in the Hunger Games section"

"But how will I know you're here?" she asked as if she was a six-year old.

Nate knew his time with her was running out, and she needed to know. He then smiled.

"Remember that old pinecone tree we had?"

Her face brightened as she nodded.

"How we used to have so much fun"

"Time's up" called the Peacekeeper.

"Wait!" called Nate as the Peacekeeper entered.

"There's no wait, we need to get you to the Capitol, and McQueen's already done" he answered in a gruff voice as he pulled Amanda away.

"Wait no!" shouted Nate moving towards the departing.

"How will I know?" shouted Amanda as Bontrilius opened the door.

"Look for three pincone needles together, and call my name, I'll be there, you won't see me, but you will feel me!"

Amanda nodded happily before she was removed from the building. Next to enter were Ducan and Isabella. Nate jumped to his feet. Soon afterwards, both Isabella and Duncan threw themselves at his feet, crying and choking, without any words. Nate stumbled backwards awkwardly. They both stood up, shivering and unhappy. Isabella was trying not to suppress her tears and Duncan was already crying.

"Oh this is terrible. I wish I could've volunteered for you!" cried Isabella

"I wouldn't have let you" murmured Nate smoothing her beautiful long hair he loved so much.

"Promise me you'll fight for us" she begged looking at him with red, yet beautiful eyes.

"I will Bella" he answered and smiled when she blushed a deep red.

Duncan placed his hand on his shoulder. Then a question popped up in Nate's mind.

"Where's Horace?" he asked feeling something sag inside seeing their expression.

"He told us to give you this" Isabella answered softly.

She held out a gold and silver watch, Horace's best position. Nate was moved by this and silently thanked Horace.

"Tell him it's great" he told them.

"Oh we're going to miss you" Duncan told him softly.

Duncan stretched out both his arms and Nate didn't reject the hug. Isabella watched and began to sob harder than her brother.

Duncan said his last good-bye and almost ran out of the building. Isabella sighed and shoved her hands in her pockets.

"Please don't laugh if I tell you secret. Nate?" her voice was soft and smooth.

"Sure, go ahead" he listened carefully.

Isabella paused and looked at the clock. She only had thirty seconds. It had to happen! She opened her mouth and forced bravery, telling herself that she would never see Nate again.

"I love you" she said quickly.

Nate stumbled backwards, not enough to upset poor Isabella. She began crying, almost regretting saying anything. But Nate pulled her into his chest and comforted her. He had a soft crush on her for a long time, maybe even a deep care. He looked at her. Love was maybe too much. But he couldn't upset Isabella! Not beautiful, sweet, intelligent Isabella.

"I love you too, and I'll fight for you" he whispered to her softly.

She looked up at him with an appaled look and seemed as though she would faint.

"Time's up!" shouted the Peacekeeper.

Isabella continued to look at him, this time with a painful look.

"Good-bye" he choked in a hoarse voice.

Before she could move from his grasp, he kissed her forehead and dragged it down to her lips and held it for a moment. With a beautiful look upon her face, Isabella left, crying now harder. He suddenly realized a headband on the couch where he had been sitting. A letter was attatched to it. Nate lifted it and read it's short lines.

_Nate,_

_All my life, I've been wanting to tell you how I feel about you. I love you. That's all I can say so far. And I want you to win. Please win so you can come back to me. I promise I'll do anything. May the odds be ever in your favor and mine- Isabella._

Aurora McQueen sat on the couch. It was shortly after she had been reaped and she felt no more fear than she showed to anyone. She had no one to care for, so what did she need to worry about? Her grandmother? Aurora snickered at the thought. Her grandmother never cared for her! She hated her now more than ever. But there was Henry. But Henry had other friends. She watched as Nate's friends left. How lucky he was! To have so many people care for him. A knock at the door signified that Wilma Reesh would soon let in someone. Aurora straighted up, knowing it had to be her grandmother. Sure enough it was. And her expression was tearful and almost hearbreaking. Aurora was more than surprised to see her grandmother sweep her up in a bear hug of tears. Aurora found herself wrapping her arms around her grandmother, but no tears threatened to splurge.

"Oh my darling. I never expected to see you go so soon. Oh my little girl! Oh my god" she sobbed rocking Aurora back and forth.

"But you trained me! And you told me that I would be a great hero"

"I didn't want to see you go. You're my only child! What will I do without great grandchildren or anything else. What will be left to live for?

"You have Mikki"

"Mikki is a sister from your father's side, so it doesn't matter. Besides, she'll be dead before she can get a husband.

Aurora looked down and then back up.

"I'll fight for you"

Her grandmother smiled for the first time that day.

"I know you will, I love you"

Aurora almost teared up. It was with mother's love that she said this. Aurora wondered how her mother would feel? She would surely cry and hold her close.

"Here's a gift, it belonged to your mother" her grandmother handed her a great golden ring with an angel pinned onto it. A large diamond was in the middle.

Aurora took in her hand and examined it over. She touched the diamond and took it in. It was the most beautiful thing she had seen in a long time, besides her weapon. Her bottom lip quivered but she quickly put it on and cherished it silently. It would bring her happiness and hope. She smiled at her grandmother and kissed her wrinkled cheek. The door was opened and her grandmother taken out, her friend Henry rushed in. He looked sort of handsome with his hair pinned back. Tears entered his eyes and he grasped her hand. He kissed it gently. She surrendered to his arms and allowed him to hold her. He cried softly while stroking her hair.

"This might be the last I'll ever get to do this"

Aurora said nothing.

"You aren't mad at me, are you?" he asked slightly alarmed.

"Oh gods no! I am just so happy that you're here with me. I couldn't bear to leave without saying good-bye" she whispered.

"What's the matter. You're not yourself today. Please tell me you're okay.

"I'm fine, but how many people will be happy when they go off to war?"

"You seemed pretty excited about it" he muttered unhappily.

"No, I'm not so happy any more" she sighed and sat down, but he didn't let go of her.

"Promise me something" she told him

"Anything."

"You won't worry about me" she insisted.

"Oh how I can I not?"

"Promise!"

"I promise"

"I like you so much, I hope you know"

"You're my best friend"

"I know"

"Don't grieve me if I die too much. I'll be there with you every second of your life" she told him happily.

He kissed her forehead and silently let go of her, he then went out to the door, and Wilma came in. She looked as if she had been crying.

"Did the Daisy get hurt?" mocked Aurora.

Wilma looked insulted.

"How dare you? You don't know anything moving?" and then she continued sobbing.

"Moving? Don't you find it moving that twenty-three innocent lives are going to be lost because of your entertainment. Why? Because you are so cruel and stupid that you can't realize that we're more than a just a peice in your Games!" Aurora shouted.

Wilma cried out and stepped backwards as if overwhelmed. This set Aurora off. She began yelling at her, and almost ready to attack when a dart hit her, and she fell unconscious.


	3. To The Capitol We Go

**Nates POV:**

In vain, I try to remove Isabella from my mind. But I can't, so I cry instead. Tears roll down my face unconditionally and sobs rip out as my chest sags up and down. Not only for Isabella, but for Mom, Dad, and Amanda. Poor, sweet, helpless Amanda. I wipe my eyes and straighten up as Bontrilius enters. From his expression, I can't tell if he's going to hit me or hug me. Hopefully, it's a hit. But it's not. He comes up and grabs me by the shoulders before I can move. Obviously, he say me cry and think I'm a coward. I straighten. I don't care what he thinks. He can think all he likes. I'd love to show him how I feel about him and his stupid Capitol. But it won't come out and I know why. If I say anything, everyone I love will die, starting with my family. I shudder. That would be worse than having them see me die in the arena. I could never endanger my family, or friends. Not even my brothers and my spoiled brat of a sister, not Amanda. The door bursts open and I catch glance of Aurora's body, gathered in the arms of the younger Peacekeeper whose name I don't know. I feel sorry for her. She probably went nuts on them, that sounds like her. I never noticed girls much, but I see her everyday, throwing rocks across the river or training for the games. If anyone's got a chance, it's her. If anyone should win, it's her.

"If you make one false move, you'll end up like her" Bontrilius whispered fiercly to me, so close I can smell his breath.

I step back and nod, careful not to show any mockingry or sarcasm. I look back at Aurora, a cut streaming down her pale face, and as the Head Peacekeeper carries me off, I watch her, wondering when she will wake. As I do, I catch eyes with my crying family and friends. I hear the train pulling in. It's now or never. I raise my weak hand, and fighting back some very threatening tears, I wave to them, moving my hand rapidly. I feel myself getting choked up and try to turn away, but I can't. I catch Isabella's painful eyes, and I know I have to win. I have to win, even if it means killing every single person in that arena. But if that's what everyone is thinking of, there's not much of a chance I'll be the one to do it. If I'm not in the Bloodbath, I'll surely die of pain and starvation. But I know much about survival. However, I've never tried anything. Then what can I do?

The train opens as I finish my last good-byes to my family and friends. Isabella is now on the floor. I want desperately to go to her. Tell her that she will be fine, but I can't move. And before I know it, Aurora's on the train and it's moving, at a terrifyingly fast speed, as I wave my final good-byes to my old life, my happiness, my misery. And now I enter death and despair, the true fear of my heart.

They are out of sight, gone forever it seems. Tears enter my eyes, but don't spill over. I see Aurora, slumped onto a couch, and Daisy-face, sitting at the window sniffling. And I know what happened. I know Aurora to have a heavy temper, this was caused by an accident invovling a few library books. She must've gotten angry at Miss My-face-is-more-yellow-than-yours and yelled at her, causing the little brat to shout and scream. If women are like this in the Capitol, then what are men like? I wonder. I've seen them high and by every year since I've been born, but the only thing they've ever been to me is some yellow-faced freaks who don't think of anything but their "precious" bodies. I bet if selling their hair could save their parents' lives, they would've screamed for them to kill their parents. If it were me, a knife and a Capitol person. I can't tell you how long they would last, because it would be too short to calculate. I sit back and imagine myself in the Games, looking brave, hardy, maybe even good-looking. I wonder if the Capitol will like me? I hear that's a big part of the Hunger Games. Getting the people to love you. I don't understand that. Isn't being condemned to die enough to make them like us? I guess not.

I hear murmurings from behind me and turn to see Aurora getting up. Her eyes look pale and unsteady. She fixes them angrily on Miss I-wish-I-were-green. And I can tell no good will come of this. I try to comtemplate Aurora's face. Dark hazel eyes, very dreamy and pretty, not like Isabella's, but they're very nice. Her hair is auburn, also matching steadily with her eyes. She is very tall, maybe a bit taller than me, but then again, I'm not the best-built boy ever to walk to universe. But I can run fast and I can climb trees well. I wonder if Aurora wants to be allies with me. Maybe, maybe not. I shouldn't care. There's tons of others. But I do want her to be my ally, and that almost scares me. For some reason, I trust those dark eyes better than anyone in this train. Better then Miss Do-my-boobs-show-through-enough-my-dress. Aurora catches my eye, but doesn't bother to talk to me. I can tell, she's probably had a rough day. Not so. Wasn't she the miss brave Little-miss-perfect this morning? But you can never tell. Maybe she's more sensitive.

Through dinner and the rest of the day, she doesn't even look at me again, let alone talk to me. But she's very enjoyable, no matter what the other's think. I like her. She cracked many good jokes at Miss Daisy-clan. The Daisy got unhappy and went up to her room, followed by Aurora, which left me to laugh myself to sleep alone. The food and hospitatlity is super amazing. At least if you're going to die in a painful way, you get nice service. The dinner was more than I've ever seen in a lifetime! Is this how Capitol people eat? They must be pigs. I could only finish one-fourth of my plate. I entered my room and was amazed by the beautiful luxury. Inside was blue bed, with fluffy pillows and large, puffy blankets. The floor is rug. There are two TVs, a stereo, although I never saw one before, I got to learn about them and was able to dance to a few tunes before tiring down. There's my own bathroom and... I sighed. And the last thing I'll ever be enjoying. This memory fills me heart with so much anxiety and sadness, it's impossible to bear. But I'll bear it. I have to. Or I'll go nuts. Or have I already?

**Aurora's POV:**

I stare into the night sky, searching for a sign for a star. There's none. I sigh and set back, my nightgown falling under my toes. I growl under my breath. Why do I have to wear such ridiculous crap? Oh right. The "righteous Capitol's" outfit which prepares me to die and kill. I wrap my arms around myself for comfort. Mostly all the confidence I felt this morning has fallen under toes like my nightgown. I don't how I will. I have trained my entire life, for what? A stupid Game that invovles taking lives away! I try to swallow my hate for the Capitol, but it doesn't work. So I shout it, knowing that if someone hears and complains, I'll spit in their faces. The Daisy Clan (my crew on this train) is beginning to piss me off with their talk of fashion and prettiness. If I'm going to be killed, can't I at least get a break from stupid topics like that. Unfortunately, the freaking Capitol "needs me to be pretty and inviting". Maybe I will, when I'm in control of it! I look back at the sky and see one star. I wonder what use it is to ramble against the Capitol. Nobody's going to rebel, and never. Not after what happened the last time. Why didn't they win. You can imagine how happy we'd be. But of course not. Of course we have to be stuck in this position, with the Capitol using us as slaves, killing of innocent children, for entertainment! Just like what the Head Bitch will feel when I die. That's what I call her when I don't feel like being polite, which you can imagine is now.

I feel my stomach which aches from all the Capitol food. It's either cause I ate too much, or because I've convinced myself that it's poisonous. Whatever the reason, I don't care. I lay backwards onto the frosted pink bed made for me. I wish that Nate and I could switch. It would make so much more sense. Unexpectedly, I laugh so hard, I fall backwards. Yes, it would fit him. Somehow, I feel a strange liking for him. I close my eyes and see his expression when he was reaped. The sadness of his friends and family as they leave him in the Justice Building. His laughing at my jokes aimed at The Head Daisy. I smile. If I had to have an alliance, which I don't plan very much, I would certainly take him. But I'm not so sure I should any more. I pick up my backpack and dump it onto the rug, smiling at the mess it makes. Tons of dirty, old weapons with a few luxuries. I shove my reaping clothes into it and pick up a knife. I try a few moves and then with a gun and a sword, followed by a bow and arrows. I'm not a master at any of them, but my grandmother has trained me well and I am a full-fledged killer, if I want to be. Suddenly I notice a mirror with a a blue outlining. Except it is not just blue, it's chrystal. I've never seen chrystal in real life before. I lean forward to see. It's very beautiful and shiny, just like grandmother described. I smiled. I'd love to take it down and shove it under The Head Bitch's pillow. See her reaction to the sharp gem. I laugh. Now she'll know the pain I've suffered from getting cut with my own weapon. Yes, the Capitol, ought to get a taste of their own medicine. I relax my violence and sit back down on my bed. I must sleep. I need it, I try to pretend Henry is beside me, and believe it or not, it actually works. I feel his arms around me, his kiss on my forehead. I don't love him, and I know that. But I need him regardless. I need him to stand by me. I need him to understand me. I giggle to myself foolishly. A song is playing from outside, and I can hardly hear.

_One day to a new beginning, raise the flag of freedom high!_

_Everyman will be king! Everyman will be a king!_

_There's a new world for the winning. There's a new world to be won!_

_Do you hear the people sing?_

I felt a surge of excitement and happiness. Who sung it? I didn't care, it didn't matter one bit to me. But it gave me hope. One day the flag of freedom would be raised high, the new world would be won, there would be a new beginning. And the people would sing. They will see the people rise! I suddenly hear my voice rise, rise louder and louder. Louder than the song itself. Because now, I come.

It was morning and surprisingly we had come a long way. It seems as though the Capitol is quite impatient to see us, since we've got such a good round this year. There was no telling of the other tributes, but I had a feeling it would be hard to get around. So I practiced my weapons in the morning. It was an effective practice. I could feel my arms getting adjusted better. When suddenly who should come in but Nate?

As soon as he saw me, we both stumbled backwards, him into the door, and I into the dresser. For a moment, we both lay silent. Then Nate began to laugh. And surprisingly, I laughed too. He walked over and helped me up.

"Thanks" I told him.

"No problem"

We stared at each other for awhile, not knowing what to say or do. It's hard to talk to someone you might kill. But fortunately, Nate is a good talker.

"What were you doing? Planning the assissination of the The Dairy Queen" he asks, and when he does I laugh.

"I wish, she's the Head Bitch to me"

I heard Nate laugh softly and pick up a knife.

"You know, I didn't know someone could have so many weapons" he turned around to face me.

I shrugged "It's good to be safe with all weapons, that way, if you lose yours, you will never be out of hand. I think I'm best with a knife, so I'll be using a few of those." I told him, only to regret it a few moments later.

"I'm trained on bows and arrows" he informed.

I thought of this and almost scowled. Bows and arrows aren't easy at all to kill, in face, they're better at killing that being killed. But then again, there will be tons of other players, and I hope they'll get to him before I do.

"So what's she up tp?" I ask him, packing up my weapons.

"The Daisy Chain? Oh! She's calling up our professional lovelies, called stylists" his voice sounded annoyed and I knew why.

"Don't like being decorated?" I asked mockingly.

"You bet" he smiled at me, which I gracefully returned.

Our voices were silenced by a sudden shout, this turned our new and slightly happy relationship a whole new different way.

"We're at the Capitol!"


	4. All Sinners Must Be Punished

**Nate's POV:**

Sure enough, we arrive in a nice looking port. I don't want to look around, but I do. Before I know it, Aurora's down the stairs, with her pack and her weapons in hands. And then, I know our relationship is over, we're now opponents, fighting for survival. Even if we do becomes allies, it can't last forever. I feel my mind turn. She really does seem better than most people make it. I wonder if she has anyone who's special to her. I look back out the window. The Capitol is ten times larger than our District, and much prettier. People of all colors, white, yellow, red, and even green, are roaming about. Most of them look like The Head Daisy. And they're all happy and smiling, carrying bags and visiting tons of stores. I've never seen these many stores in my life. In District 1, we have fives shops, one for decorations and furniture, one for clothes, one for sweets and goodies, another for vegetables and meats, and then there's smelt and rock, and weapons and iron things to manage any businesses. I look down at my clothes. Those geniuses, the Daisy Clan, decided to dress me up this morning. I look like a freak in these clothes, I think. It'll be worse when they take us up to the chariots, and the interview, and the Games. I sigh and remind myself I'm only here to either kill or get killed. Every happy person out there should be my enemy, I should hate them. I do, in a way, but it's undying and impossible to diminish like Aurora's. But I do hate The Head Daisy. I don't care what anyone says about her, I just hate her.

I look down at my outfit. I look like an old French ambassador I read about in one of my books. My hair looks longer with the headband that holds it back. It's curled and shiny. My cheeks look red with all the makeup they used. My nails are fair and I look almost like a girl. My lips are very red and my hair hangs into my back. I look very pale and nearly healthy, almost good-looking. I wonder why I'm thinking about my looks like the damned Beauty Club. I feel glad I at least look normal next to these clowns, if a clown had three five year olds had smeared it all over them. I hear the train hissing, and I know it's time to face the Capitol.

I wander down the stairs of the train. I don't plan to do anything, just stare ahead like nothing's going on, but I can tell it's not going to be easy. A crowd gathers outside. I walk into my room and wonder why the travel was so brief. Maybe the Capitol was so impatient to have the Games happen soon. I spat on the ground, without even thinking. I then say a last good-bye, not a slow one, and gather my stuff. I then turn away from the train, my last connection with my home. And I leave, my heart pounding unjoyfully. Aurora suddenly enters the kitchen, and I am so surprised by her looks, that I almost faint. She looks a little more than beautiful in her outfit, a flaming body suit, her hair crimped and curled, her hair looking fiery, her eyelashes long and fair, her eyes so intense, and her entire face colored with all sorts of extreme, adult makeup. She looks at me and laughs.

"I'm guessing the Bush did you. Well, you're out of luck" she laughed and highed her bag onto her back.

I couldn't think of anything to say back. I was surprised she even talked to me at all. I looked at her, unstabely. She frowned in return, and I know it wasn't at me. I turned around to see the newly red faced Daisy head. Before I could say anything, Aurora smiled.

"So, she became the Rosey Head instead. That's very classy. It looks like a nice red balloon. I'd like one of those. So I can let it go and watch it float in the sky. You know, red stands out well" for some reason, I start laughing when she says this, she smirks happily at the crying Head Rosey.

"Is this what they give me for my first job? A bunch of brats" Rosey spat on the floor.

"Calm down Rosey, you're as red as a rose" Aurora's eyes are angry, and I tell a tantrum is coming up.

"You bitch! You stupid little bitch! You're such a brat, you think everything you do is so perfect" Rosey told her, straigtening to show off that she was taller, which isn't really true, Aurora's taller.

That was the last straw, the one that broke the camel's back. Aurora growled.

"You dare! You might as damn well throw yourself in front of bloodthirsty murderers, which I am about to become!"

I wonder if she's joking. No she's not. She lunges at Bloody Mary, my very new and original nick name for her. Bloody screams as Aurora tackles her to the floor. That's a shame, her hair flies loose and her sleeves tilt over the sides. She claws Bloody's face and spits on it. Luckily for her, if her victim bleeds, it won't show. But sure enough, the Rosey Clan, who are now looking exactly like Bloody, run in. The two girls are on the floor, fighting like fully grown men, or at least Aurora is.

"Get her off" cries MaryBlood, screaming her lungs off. I can tell her face is looking worse than ever.

The female guard, a soft-faced woman, grabs Aurora's legs and dangles her off the ground. Aurora is screaming. I can tell the future for her family isn't a good one. I run off the train, I have to avoid having them think I was a part of this. Maybe they thought it was an attempt assassination. I gently laugh, that can't be. But then again, the Capitol is very bloodthirsty, and I can only assume the worse for Aurora. I wonder if any other tributes are here. I am answered a bunch of screams and shouts, and sure enough a crowd of people has taken place on the other side of the station. I stare back at them, until the cheering has died down, and an awkward silence has taken it's place. I stare, the crowd stares back, and before anyone can react, a guard grabs hold of me and pulls to a spiral staircase, and behind him is Aurora, covered in blood and being dragged by spiked chains.

**Aurora's POV:**

I open my eyes dizzily from a nightmare and scream. For some reason, I felt like it. I dreamt of the Hunger Games, but it isn't what someone might think. It was real, or so I thought. It was dark outside, I could see from an open window, and I wonder how long I've been asleep. I'm in a bed, but I don't know who's. Then I remember I'm at the Capitol. Why didn't I remember that before. I shudder and reach up to my forehead, where three bloody gashes are feelable. I don't scream or wince, but I suddenly feel weak. I stumble out of bed and fall to the floor, trying desperately to suppress a scream. A large pain sears my leg almost numb. I turn over and see a gash, even larger than the three on my head, going from my upper leg, to a little past my knee. I reach down and touch, that's when I know it's serious. It's at least a needle-length down. I hold back tears, as I try to go towards the door, draggin myself by right side. It hurts like crazy, and I now that my other side has been cut. Before I can reach the door, a light burst, and I know I'm not alone.

"Aurora McQueen" says a scraggly, snake-like voice.

I look up to see a man. Tall, snake-like, ugly, you get the point. And what scared me more than his appearance, was that I knew who he was, and what he was capable of doing, and if that's anything, it's of killing me.

"Well?" he asks leaning to look me in the eyes.

I back up, despite my desperate want to spit in his face and tear his guts out. I know I could, but what would that mean. They would choose another President, and I would be executed, not in a quick way. It's President Snow who is standing before me.

I feel my heart pound through my stomach, and I try to suppress my feelings, knowing it will only be me anger and unhappiness. I want to claw him, get him under myself, with only my knife in between us. But I think of Henry and Grandma, and I stop myself. I don't say anything, I stay silent. I fear that I might shout if I get the chance. He looks at me curiously.

"Don't you have a few words. Of... unhappiness?" he asks me again.

I shake my head and I want to cry for some reason. He's here to kill me no doubt, for trying to kill the Rose Bitchess.

"You hurt that girl pretty badly" he tells me, leaning backwards.

I shudder. I know he's going to kill me. But he can't kill a tribute before I'm in the arena, can he? In the arena he will, I know it. It's overly obvious. I should make Nate my alliance, so he can have my stuff and so he can make my death a quick one. Plus, he should win. But I know, if it's something bad for me, it might kill him as well. Maybe I'll let him go first and then have him check on me once in a while. No, then he'd think I was trying to get him killed first. Then I'd go first, but then I couldn't get an eye on him, or tell where he is compared to me. I sigh, I'll need to talk to him. But the president is waiting for an answer so I finally suck up to it.

"I'm sorry. I was overwhelmed with grief of leaving my family. They looked so crushed, she called me a spoiled brat and-" I am interrupted.

"That was no right for you to attack her. Those who do wrong, must be punished"

"So you'll kill me?" I ask it before I can stop it.

He stares at me, his eyes cold and dark. I hate him, I really do, but there's nothing I can do about it.

"I don't know yet, but the consequences will be, ravishing" he smiled cruelly at me and left.

I couldn't help taking this in, he was out to kill me, it was obvious. Then something more horrible took over my mind. Something I couldn't hide. He was going to kill my family and friends. It was plain obvious. He wouldn't kill someone if he could torture them instead. And he'll torture me, there's no more obvious thing that that. Soon enough, I'll go crazy with grief, and death won't be a choice, he wouldn't let me out so easy. He'd make me watch them torture Henry and Grandma, and they would die slowly. I feel myself slipping away, the night grows ever colder, the stars are black, everything is whirling, and in all of this, I picture Henry, and I know, or at least I think, he'll be safe. Then a new world enters, something worse than anything I've ever seen. A large lake around me, except very shallow. Lots of seagulls in the sky, animals prowling the middle, the middle which I see every year, to the right, there's a forest, to the left, there's the desert. I hear the screams and I see the blood of others, and my worst nightmare has been confirmed. I'm in the arena, and my life is already gone.


	5. District 2 Reapings

In District 2, reaping day was mostly considered a happy day. Careers were training in the courtyard, with the protection of Peacekeepers around them. The mountains around them glared with sunlight, so different than District 1's rain and cloudiness. The loudest noises were the weapons, of spears and swords hitting armor, arrows hitting targets, and guns firing off. It was not a place to be around without the best protection. Most kids were expecting to win, for they had taken the tessarae, not for the food, but for being able to be in the Games. They all believed themselves to be winners and that surely they would win the Games, like every year.

If you lived in District 2, and hated the Hunger Games, there is absolutely no determining how long you'll live, but it's luck to those who don't take the tessarae, because every year, there had been at least over 50 copies of every name. Soon enough, the names were drawn from a large bucket and picked. The people had even requested to have two tributes of each sex entered in the Games, but they were declined. There was almost no telling when the reaping would take place. The town crier was killed by a flying arrow, quickly mourned, and then burried, all in an hour. Only adults and small children went to his burial, and he was replaced by a quiet woman who only sought the job as an excuse to miss the reaping, as her daughters had entered their names sixty times each. The rest of the parents were buying all sorts of gifts, watches, rings, tokens, in case their child was picked. They wanted them to look fabulous. And of course, they sent them to training. Any child from District 2 who was a coward was an outcast. And their parents were laughed at.

While District 2 was an upright, violent place, there were kind-hearted children and parents as well, and they were just as popular, as long as they weren't cowards, which most weren't. Miners made their way down from the mines as soon as the clock struck twelve. Only three hours till the reaping. There wasn't one person in the place, whose heart wasn't beating like crazy. This could mean another victory or loss for District 2, and for the other districts as well. Women were dressed in their prettiest dresses with all the goods they had, placed carefully on them, which was not a ton. They were bracelets, earring, hats, and any other accesories. Men wore their cleanest, fanciest clothes. There wasn't one person that wasn't in a hurry to prepare. In the miners' cafeteria, they had begun a game of cards, called Mits, which is at this moment called Counter Kepps. They played many rounds and rounds, with nearly everyone present, as they ate their lunch, a large beef sandwitch and a salad on the side. It was simple but filling and the miners ate it quicker than someone could say "dessert". And someone did, so dessert was served.

The rest of the jobs were cancelled for the day, if anyone was injured, they were cared for at home, if anyone was hungry, they ate plants and grass. The bakery was closed, the market was closed, the clothing shop was closed. All of the shopping had been done the day before, so no one could complain. The Square for District 2 was much more different than District 1. Instead of being decorated in gold and silver luxurories, it was surrounded by tons of Peacekeepers, some known, some unknown, for the Peacekeeper official ceremony. The ground was complete copper and iron, teleported from the Capitol itself and weapons decorated the stage. The stage was cold and empty, copper like the ground. A few nice decorations were hung up, like a large gray banner announcing the reaping day. It was a reminder, to those who had forgotten. It was now one o' clock. District 2, was the only district that was nearly crazy about seeing the escorts and Peacekeepers, it kept them excited for something. It kept them in line with the Capitol, not out of fear, but out of excitement and enthusiasm. People of all kinds, with or without their friends or loved ones, were gathered around the Square, awaiting entrance. Usually, in other Districts, people waited until the reaping was a minute away to place themselves in line. But the people in District 2 were quite desperate to see everyone, and the result was lots of pushing, cursing, and some beatings enhanced by the Peacekeepers. There was a gang of boys, anonymous in their trouble makings, who hit other boys, slapped girls, and did much more. They were the H.G.M and there wasn't one of them who would volunteer for someone going in the Hunger Games. They wanted to kill, they were bloodthirsy. Among these members were Hugo Fits, Ethan Borbellos, Jess Ovo, Clayton Reese, and Justin Tulio. It was no doubt that any of them could kill easily, and of course they could.

"Settle down, or you'll be recieving a whipping" shouting Ritella Gion, a Peacekeeper.

No one simmered down, some recieved whippings. But it was all in good time when the Head Peacekeeper, Millian Yiwan let down his guard and the people scurried in. Tributes were in the front, all dressed nicely and looking like the best killers in town. Their arms were pumped up from training and their faces sweaty from movement, they were ready. Adults and other children entered more quietly in the back, preparing their gifts for flight. It was at least ten minutes before everyone had settled down. When they did, Millian entered the building and made his way to the stage. When he got on, a smile errupted on his burly face. He then stepped up to the podium.

"Ladies and gentleman, give it up for the thirty-fourth Hunger Games" he shouted out, raising his hand in triumph.

Sure enough, the place went crazy with cheers and clapping, and not artificial ones. It was an epic moment until Millian raised his whip.

"Hush up, the anthem is playing!" he hissed and then turned to the flag, as so did the rest of the Square.

The anthem began and a hush fell over the audience. The wild and lively theme penetrated their hearts and minds with excitement. This day was finally here. There wasn't one person in the Square who wasn't listening with all their hearts. Everyone stood still, with their eyes focused on the flag. When the anthem stopped, everbody bowed to the flag, showing it's power and symbolism. Then came the March of the Peacekeepers, where new Peacekeepers would be assigned. Millian turned back towards the audience and smiled.

"Ladies and gentleman. The March of the Peacekeepers begins. We will honor our old ones for keeping things and order and keeping justice where it should. Please congratulate our seventy-two Peacekeepers, and may they have lives full of happiness" he boomed as the Peacekeepers entered the stage.

Everyone was dazzled by their pretty looks. Their hair loose, their clothes fashionable. They looked like Capitol people. As if it were the end of a show, they took hands and bowed, hearing and cherishing the claps and cheers of the people. But it was silenced by Millian himself. Millian then smiled.

"And now, let us welcome our five new Peacekeepers!" he paused a moment to look at a list he had just picked up "And now, the new Peacekeepers are, Tracy Kindall, Yames Verde, Polon Verde, Nevemol Orba, and Gerola Benita"

The five new Peacekeepers entered the stage, in a straight line. Unlike the older Peacekeepers, they wore dark blue jumpsuits and their hair was secured by a cap. They came forward and bowed to Millian. He then touched their heads, and they arose.

"Miss Tracy Kindall, I give you the District of 3" he announced placing a badge unto her jumpsuit.

She nodded and walked off the stage.

"Mister Yames Verde, I give you the District of 11" he told him, repeating the steps he had done with Tracy.

He too left.

"Mister Polon Verde, I give you the District of 7"

A loud cheer was heard from the crowd, as he practically danced off the stage.

"Mister Nevemol Orba, I give you the District of 4"

And finally the last new Peacekeeper came up, looking nervous.

"And Miss Gerola Benita, I give you District of 1" he placed the badge on the last Peacekeeper, and the procession stared.

Starting with Millian, the entire crew of Peacekeepers, including the new ones, marched of the stage and out of the Square. It was traditional in 2, that the Peacekeepers were to march about town, and that all standbyers would have to offer them their most precious gifts. The stores would have to give them everything they wanted for free. And then, they would go to the train station, where the new Peacekeepers would head off to their new Districts. As they left, another person entered the stage. It was their usual escort, Epitos Giolanta, a Capitol foreman. He was tall, and girlish. His voice was unusually high and he was into fashion. He wore very tight pants, so tight they showed everything. His shirt was laced and handsome, unbuttoned to reveal a bit of his chest. He smiled gravely.

"Welcome District 2, and happy Hunger Games" he flashed them a smile which they returned.

The two buckets underneath him were pull of names, and he leaned over. Then he grabbed some, and shoved them off the stage. It was his way of messing with them, almost making them angry. He then stood back up.

"I'm sorry, it looked so unneat just shoved in like that, there's way to many this year. How many of you are participating. The few front rows raised their hands and slowly dropped them.

"Well, ladies firt" he announced, and to their surprise, he leaped into the crate of names, followed by cheers and gasps from the crowd. When he finally came up, he read the name aloud.

"Metal Grates"

The audience went crazy. The spotlight turned on the girl in the back. She was tall and dangerous looking with a smirk no one could defy. Two younger boys clung onto her, as if afraid to let her go. She looked down at them in pity and gently pried them from her wait. She then headed towards the stage, with her head back and held high. When she finally got to the stage, she smiled and stepped up. It was not because she like the Hunger Games, which she did not, but because she was brave, and wild. No one could surpass such feelings. She shook hands carefully with Epitos and stepped up to the podium, something no tribute had done before. The audience showered with gifts, but quieted down.

"Hello District 2" she saluted.

They all muttered their own greetings and listened.

"Hello, I said. And I want to see, that this a huge oppurtunity for all of us, and that will never change" she took a deep breath and looked upward. "The Hunger Games is an event like no other, it's exciting, thrilling, bloody, and satisfying. Very satisfying. All these years, I've watched it, and I thought to myself and wondered what it would be like, if I ever got the chance to play in them. And now I know. I will play well, and I won't let District 2 down"

The crowd went more nuts than ever, jumping up and down, throwing everything nice, laughing, kissing, and even fainting. Metal smiled as she stepped down. What she said, was completely different than what she thought. In her mind, she hated the Hunger Games. She hated the Capitol. And more importantly, she hated the Peacekeepers. All her smiles, words, and happiness was fake. In fact, she secretly hid in bushes, and threw rocks at Peacekeepers, and escaped before they could figure out what was happening. She the rebellion in the form of a young girl. She smiled and took her place by Epitos. He threw his arms around her and laughed like crazy. She blushed out of embarrasment, but didn't pull away. Then Epitos stepped forward and dove into the boys as he had into the girls. The crowd was silent. Soon enough, he popped back up. People around burst into laughter when he spit out a few names from his mouth. This turned into more cheering when he caught one and announced the name of the male tribute.

"Justin Tulio" he said.

The spotlight turned on a burly, tough boy. He was average-looking, and of course completely unaware of it. He then ripped off his shirt and exposed his chest to the public. He then slapped a girl, who screamed and held herself in defense. He then jumped down rows of people, sticking his boots in people's faces and kicking them, as a sign of bragging. No one like this boy, for he was angry and tough, but he had so much spirit, they had to at least smile. He leaped like a tiger onto the stage, and kissed a girl fully on the lips beneath it. She fainted, not out of happiness but out of surprise and disgust. He then raised his two fists in the air. He was not charismatic, so he did not make a speech. He then went to join Metal and Epitos. The Head Peacekeeper, who had just returned, took both their hands and raised them up high. The crowd cheered for the last time before Metal Grates and Justin Tulio disappeared from the Square, maybe for the rest of eternity.


	6. District 3 Reapings

So now, we turn to District 3. Like District 1, it considered reaping day a day of death and mourning, like one would have. It was made plain and clear by the unhappy faces of the crowd, everyone preparing for the destruction ahead. This year, no one had really dared take the tessarae, so numbers were low, and the odds were the same as having everyone put in only one name. And fear was lingering in the air. A dreadful feeling that would not go away until the reapings were announced for some, or until death for others. But no one complained or cried, they carried on, as always.

It was always tiresome, preparing for the reaping day, but it was necessary and kept them out of trouble with the Peacekeepers. There were at least twelve Peacekeepers in District 3, to keep things in order and force punishment if needed. Punishment did not happen too often, unless someone went crazy or rebelled, or the peace was disturbed by fighting. But since District 3 was so peaceful and quiet, it was hard not to be bored as a Peacekeeper. It was not a boring town at all. There was much activity going on. There was always a meeting, a game, or something exciting happening that made people see the bright side. In fact, one would say that District 3 was almost a nice place to live, except for the poverty. But in this district, there was all kinds of action, from theatre, to dancing, to singing, to shows, to sport events, to even fashion shows. It was a mini, povertized Capitol. Except the poor people were dirty, hungry, and exhausted to the point of fainting.

Here, you learned skills when you were still young, and the result of it was that District 3 had many victors, at least twelve who were still alive. They were worshipped, unfakely, by the town and respected by the Peacekeepers. These victors were the happiest. They lived in the largest houses, had respect and admirers, children, large backyards and so much more. Their children had a less chance of getting chosen then the others as well, but they were still entered. Today, there was no game, or event going on, except for the gathering at the Square, a flash mob had appeared and began dancing to music. A small crowd had gathered around, some threw bread and pennies. It was obvious that this flash mob was poor and was doing it for money rather than pleasure, although they did seem to enjoy it. They were so great, it seeemed as though they were trained to do it for a living. This was far from the truth. The flash mob had only started by one young lady called Rita Breston starting to dance and singing to a guitar player on the right of her. And soon enough, a few joined her, and they danced well together, doing different but similar things. It was a pattern of a dance, which was not easy to catch onto too, which made the dance seem better. Some of the people in the flash mob were obvious to point out. There was Julia Burreau, Henry Higol, Nistris Opan, Lavender Jones, and a few others who were quite unknown.

Right when the crowds around the mob apppeared to be growing, the Head Peacekeeper waved them off, and they all left. Seeing no point in continuing, the flash mob died down and got ahold of all the goods dropped by the audience. Alone, they ate their foods and spent their money. After this, everyone headed home. It was a tradition, that on reaping day, tributes and their families would go home an hour before the reaping started, so that they might be able to spend time with their tributes, before they were shipped off. No friends were over at each other's houses and everyone was in place. This hour, as usual, seemd to go too quick for last good-byes. But everything important in the lives of the unhappy goes quick, but it never seems to end either. Soon enough, people were leaving their homes, looking nice as far as Districts go. There wasn't a soul who didn't understand, the reaping was here.

Without the "assistance" of a Peacekeeper, the District shuffled in their places quietly. There was no districtions, nor was their any sound. They simply wanted to reaping to finally be over with, so they could go home and celebrate, or mourn. Adults and little children were in the middle of the entire thing, tributes were in front. They were all crammed uncomfortably together, but this was no surprise since any klausterphobia was diminished at birth. Now, it felt nice to be clashed together. This way, they felt united, the Capitol was far away, so when it wasn't reaping day, they didn't have to worry. The only comfortable ones were the people in the back, which were Peacekeepers, the mayor's family, and the former victors. They had seats and were well rid of huge crowds. It was obvious that this would go by quick, as it always did. Reaping day in District 3 wasn't heavily anything but a burden they had to carry. After a moment of silence, the Head Peacekeeper made his way to the stage, with only a little difficulty. He then cleared his throat and began to speak.

"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. Today is the reaping of the 34th annul Hunger Games. Please give it up for our escort from the Capitol itself, Nesha Prases!"

The crowd clapped, not a wild clapping or a soft one, but a normal one. It was definetly not one expected from a crowd of mistreated, overworked people waiting to see their children or themselves reaped. Nesha Prases was a slim, white figure with a row of great white teeth, a pretty smooth face, and a sexy look. Her skin was unnaturally white and sparkly. Her hair was blood red, she was definetly a Capitol person. In other words, she was goregeous. Her flaming red hair was wavy and blew with the wind, her fine teeth flashed in her smile, and her red makeup made her good looks stand out. Her long black dress was slingy and showed of her fine, muscular legs. She twirled at the crowd.

"Hiya!" she called, raising her arms and twirling faster.

The crowd muttered admiring responses to this sexy, desirable turn. The woman turned faster and faster until she finished with a desperate look. She then held both her long, fit arms out, and two boxes were placed on each. She smiled a bright, unwavering, flattering smile at the crowd and flicked her hair. It went so fast, the movement was impossible to see. It picked up a peice of paper and threw it three feet in the air. Nesha looked up and tossed the girl's boy into the crowd, where a couple of twelve year-olds caught it, and searched to see if they had survived. Then, Nesha read the name.

"Lavender Jones" she announced with deep pride in her sweet, cat-like voice.

A loud cheer echoed in the Sqaure as a lively tune, the anthem of Panem was played. All roses and lights flashed on Lavender Brown herself. She was a tall seventeen year-old with slingy black hair and a windy smile. Her hair whipped across her face as she dashed up to the stage. She wore a low v-neck, dark to almost match her beautiful hair, and red shorts. Nesha did a few dance steps next to her. Lavender looked out at the crowd with a distant look. She could see her siblings and friends, staring at her with large, wide eyes. But no one volunteered. Lavender did not expect or want anyone to do so. But she wondered who would take care of her young family, her innocent siblings, her best, reliant friends. But she then thought of others who were to enter, and accepted it with all her heart. It was complete. Nesha hugged her and held her arm up high. Lavender stared at it. She suddenly shuddered at the thought of the Hunger Games. At the thought of killing others...

Then Nesha balanced the boy's on her head. She then kissed her fingers and reached into the box on top of her. The boys were nearly drooling, and not because they were nervous. Nesha turned around, sexily moving her waist to the rythm of walking. She then turned around and pulled out a name. She then screamed the name.

"Beauregard Atikson" she screamed.

The crowd once again started to scream. He looked hurt, yet unsurprised. Like he had been expecting, which he had. He looked down. He was vaguely "cute" being pale with large brown eyes and black haired. His hair came down to his neck and was thick and messy. He bore the look of a kicked-around puppy with a kind air. He slowly made his way up to the stage, as if he had been scolded. He then jumped up to it. The crowd sighed at the flying black hair and the sad look. He turned around towards the crowd and smiled, trying to suppress tears and the pain in his heart. He caught eyes with his father unintentionally, and was even more hurt to see his father's expression so tight and emotional. Tears threatened to spill over, but were held in after seeing Jezebel's evil, satisfied look. Hate took over his gentle, golden heart. It was because of her. Because of the little bitch who only wanted him dead to have his father's fortune. He caught eyes with his friends, Noah and Hunter. They looked ready to cry as well. Suddenly Noah burst into the tears. The cheering seemed to slow down. Tears rolled down his cheek. Only three tears, no more. He felt a tugging at his arm, and saw Nesha pulling him along, staring ahead as though she might cry as well. Beau couldn't hold it in. He let the tears roll. It the end, the end of his world, and his father's. Beau never knew he would mean so much to his father. Jezebel refused to have any kids. This hurt Beau's chest even more. And it was only a matter of time, until he was buried and dead, and his remains were the only thing to talk to and smile with. His cold dead body. Beau's tears were unstoppable. His heart plunged into the black room in which he was put in, a dark jail, only he would be there, forever and ever, until the day it would fall.


	7. District 4 Reapings

District 4 was all about the beach, which was where most people spent their reaping days. On the beach, eating, playing, swimming, training. Mostly training for whatever would come ahead, which was obviously not fun nor easy. But neither was the training. There was a long line from the training area to the empty lot behind it, at least over 100 meters long. It was a long line of sweaty, grumpy tribtues, waiting for their turn to train. The people training were more fortunate than those waiting. It was devilish hot outisde, with the sun beating down in a sharp ray. It smelled of sweat and sunscreen, all old and musty. The people on the training block were nice and cold. The large block was a replica of the real arena, except only twelve people were allowed at a time. Being a large District, they had at least one hundred ten tributes available. These poor children were sweaty, grumpy, and nervous for the reaping to come. It was one hour before noon, the reaping in four took place at four o' clock. No one was thrilled or excited, only desperate and unhappy. The tributes glumly watched as younger children played in water, scooping it up and throwing it at each other, almost having a good time. It was forbidden for tributes to be in the water at all, or they would be punished. Some fainted from dehydration and others were severly weakened. Parents brought bottles of water for the tributes to drink from and fed them some bread and cheese.

All the shops were open, and there were quite a few. Work was open and allowed to take place. Reaping day was meant to be a day of celebration and relaxation, but adults worked for money and to catch up on anything they left behind. While most were at the beach, some roamed the streets and were at home, preparing meals. Friends were together, which made the day less unbearable, which it already was. Reminders of the Games were pointed out everywhere. People were forced to buy posters for the Games and bet on who would win, but not untilt the tributes were announced. There was a blow that could only come from a train, the Capitol escorts and prep team was here. And the reaping would begin soon enough.

By the time noon came, the line simmered down a little as tributes went to eat. They visited restaurants or ate at home, usually at home. The nicest meals were served on this day to the families of reaping tributes. It included fish, rice, and beans, with a side of clean bread and good healthy cheese. And it was the only day of the year, which allowed desserts. This desert was cream filled pie, being sold at the bakery on 34th Street. It was a pie of any flavor, cherry, raspberry, blueberry, and much more, with a cream inside, and was the best thing tasted in all of the District. Unlike the other Districts, District 4 was practically made up of resteraunts and food. But still, most of the people were skinny and underweight. This was because the finest foods cost over what the people earned and therefore, only Peacekeepers, Capitol officials, and the mayor's family only got to taste it. But today was different. Today was the day in which two families would loose their children, and it was a heartrending experience which haunted many.

There were quite a few victors from District 4. These were the winners of the 8th Hunger Games, the 10th Hunger Games, the 17th Hunger Games, the 25th Hunger Games, the 31st Hunger Games, and the 33rd Hunger Games. They were in second place for most victors, next to District 2. The most popular and well-known of the victors was the winner of the eighth Hunger Games, Yebashtan Red, a humorous, joking, supportive 35 year old. He was married to the girl who won the 10th Games, Elena West. They had four children, of three who were eligdible for the Games. However, they lived in complete luxury and ate well. There were three girls and one boy, Elena was expecting another soon. All the girls were eligdible this very year.

The Reds were already at the Square, planning the reaping festival, which was after the reapings were done. Things were a bit different for this District, for the entire community would pay their visits and respects to the tributes as a sign of pride and honor. Elena Red was wearing a silky red dress, up to her heels. Her blonde hair was done nicely and she wore a red hat. These were her annul reaping clothes. Her husband was in a shirt and tie. Their oldest daughter, Lissanda was a very attractive young lady. She was tall and gorgeous with black hair done in a butterfly form at the back of her head. Her features were smooth and her jaw square. She was also fine to study and look at, because besides being beautiful, her looks were interesting. She wore a black veil with a black feathered dress, like a wedding dress a bit. Her younger sister was less appealing. She had strawberry blonde hair, short and uneven. Her eyes were very deep, and somewhat pretty. But her nose remained the mishap of her shape. It was large and noticeable. Her lips looked puffy and her eyes bloodshot. She wore an aqua blue dress which was made from strings. The youngest daughter was small for her age and looked eight. She had light blue eyes, a good sized nose, an extremely youthful look, red cheeks, and soft eyelids. She was cute, but not beautiful like Lissanda. Her name was Opalin. She wore a white nightgown, since she had barely woken up. The little boy wore the same as his father and looked just like him. The entire family of victors stood in front of the stage, talking rapidly together, planning what the ceremony would look like. They all had witnessed the Capitol's cruelty and hated it, but they were forced to like it. It was now two o' clock.

There was two more hours to go. The time for training became shorter, and to the relief the poor sweaty tributes, the line began to die down as tributes to get ready for the reaping. They went down their homes and beauty parlors. This was to get them to beauty base zero as it was called, so that the tributes looked decent and well, which they soon would. However, there was still a bit of a line, and the sun had only gotten hotter since noon. But it was less crowded, and therefore more pleasant, but by only a little bit. Soon enough an announcement came on the speaker. It was the voice of Elena Red.

"Citizens! Happy Reaping Day! And may the odds be ever in your favor. Today, our special tribute to the tributes will be that every person here must bid good-bye to them, and send them their best possessions. Thank you"

The speaker went off and everyone stared. This was their double punishment. Now they would have to give over what they held most dear to them. Most of them planned to lie, hold some cards or candy near to them. After this announcement, so that they would have more time to think this over, tributes were gone by the hundreds. Soon, there were only seven tributes training, all of them Careers. They didn't mind handing over their best possessions, or volunteering for the matter. But they thought they didn't mind. In reality, no one ever had the guts to speak up. This time, they promised themselves to be different, which was not something expected from the tributes chosen.

An hour had passed, the people were ready. But they did not want to wait another hour just to get in the building. The sun was less hot, but the earth was still the same, and knowing it, the people stayed indoors, until the clock finally stuck ten minutes to four. They rose off their chairs and couches, bid good-bye to their friends, and with anxiety and nervousness seeping into their stomachs overwhelmingly, they went to enter the arena. The line was endless, but with the Peacekeepers, it seemed to go in quickly. But all the same, it was unluckiness to be among the back in the line. The sun beat down heavily and it was almost a relief to be in the Square. All of the people were bunched together, tributes, youngsters, and adults. It was very loud, but ignorable. Friends sat next to friends and talked. Families were seperated, for they could not bear to face each other if one of them was called. Instead of a Peacekeeper, this year, Elena rose and entered the stage. This meant she could not be the mentor, but it had to be one of them. Suddenly she cleared her throat, everyone sat up and paid attention.

"Hello District 4" she greeted in a voice that drew everyone's attention from the crowd.

"Welcome to Reaping Day, and the the start of the 34th annul Hunger Games" she flashed a smile at them and beckoned the escort, Utalia Wekker, who entered slumpingly. She put on a soft smile for the audience and then sighed again. She headed towards the boy's basket, which held tons of names. Everyone was now on the edge of their seats. She then picked up a name and smiled, she then walked back to the lectern, placed right in the middle of the blue stage and read the name aloud.

"And representing the boys is... Robin Phoenix Tennysen" she announced.

A fanfare was played, sounding a bit like the anthem, but not exactly. In turned on the kid himself. He looked around him in confusion, an action that would've brought tears to the eyes of most people. In face some people began crying. It was clear he did not understand what was happening. A girl and boy were next to him, their eyes full of tears. It was clear he could not figure it out himself, and if he did know, he refused to believe it. The girl laid a hand on his shoulder and whispered something before bursting completely into tears. This boy, this clueless boy, everyone would've known. He had never harmed anyone, he was peaceful and kind. And now he would die, if not go crazy. He looked at her with a tearful expression and slowly and timidly made his way up to the stage, his head bowed and his eyes sullen. Everyone gasped and sighed and whispered to each other. Utalia smiled and leaned close to him. She whispered somehting, almost mirroring what the other girl had whispered. He nodded and faced the crowd, his sullen,unhappy expression there, and facing the world. But Utalia was up and picking out of the girl's basket before anyone could blink. She then shouted

"And for the ladies... Audrina Thorndew!"

The place roared in cheers and clappings. A softer, sweeter fanfare began to play, echoing in the Square. A girl, not the prettiest, was shown. Her bottom lip quivered and her eyes dropped, but when they rose again, there was no emotion. She had shaggy auburn hair and dark green eyes, her face was freckled and pale. Her nose was sharp, preventing all beauty from taking place. She made her way, a bit quickly towards the stage and placed herself between Utalia and Robin, who still looked stunned. They all bowed. The Square remembered the announcement, and soon enough, the stage was flooded with these people. hugging and embracing children they had never seen before. Giving them nice gifts and offering all they kindness they had. Audrina allowed this hugs and kisses and returned them softly, but Robin stood still, his eyes out in the crowd. When the embraces were done, the two were hurried off the Justice Building, away from their last attachment from home. Away from all they had.


	8. District 5 Reapings

Now we turn to District 5. Like District 3, it was never excited nor saddened by the reaping day, it was a day until it was over, and therefore no one listened nor cared. It was more than a day, however, to those whose children were reaped. Other than that, it was not given much thought. It looked like any normal day, windy and cloudly, with an almost definite chance of rain, or large showers. The clouds seemed fearfully close and almost black, capable of the worst lightning. Because of this, people scurrried around, not spending too much time outside or near anything that seemed ready to catch lightning. All little children were indoors, for the fear of being killed in a storm. Luckily for this district, these kinds of storms were common and therefore, the Square was indoors and well protected by lightning rods. There were no street urchins, for all sold everything they had, so that they would have a house to hide in when storms came, even if the house was freezing and half broken down, which lots were. In the middle of the city, was the Square, the only grand building in the place, tall and golden with flowery wires tightening it's grip around it. Outside the Square, were the tallest houses, not the victors' houses, but the tallest ones, belonging to the few rich families and mayor's families. The Peacekeepers' Headquarters was on top of the Square, which was where they gladly lived. Nice, and almost luxurious shops surrounded the nice houses, and smaller, less luxurious ones behind them. Behind the shops were more houses, quite small, but decent. Then there was a large river in between the good side and the bad.

The bad side, was a dirty, musty, old-smelling, rotten broken-down place. It was like a public graveyard, with tons of corpses lying along the river bank, barely a few feet underground with common weeds and dandelions above, to show respect to those who had families. Those who didn't, weren't even buried, they were thrown in a large hole planted at the end of the pathway near the river. The river itself was not a thing of beauty. Lots of garbage and even some bodies floated with it's mighty, large waters. Behind this, the land could only be described as dead and abandoned. Old plants were dug up and thrown carelessly onto the ground. If one wasn't careful, they might find one of their feet caught in a bed of thorns from an old rosebush. The houses behind, were old and filthy, made of old rock which would easily crumble. There no streets, just houses lined up unevenly and carelessly. All sorts of ugly people lived there, broken down, underweight, and shaggy people, with crying children. No one decent would enter these "wastelands". By midnoon, this empty land would fill with the dirtiest, darkest, smelliest men and women, and even children, walking carrying heavy loads on their own backs. Small, barely suitable shops lay around. The most decent shop was the bakery, a brick building which smelt of burnt salt, the inside was mostly burnt, but the foods drew hungry people to them, the woman in charge would shoo these people away with a broom. She was a broad, bulky woman who looked as though she had been broken and reformed by mutts of the Capitol. She wore a dirty, hole-filled dress, and had three tender boys, whom she beat and shouted at. They were not lazy and almost always at work. Nearly everyone outside agreed that if this woman had a daughter, she would be of the finest, not her skinny scared boys.

Things here were busy as always, everyone worked, from children, to women, to men. Seeing one clean here was the same chance of seeing a rich person besides a Peacekeeper enter these filthy, cursed land. These humble, patient, crying, unclean people were nearly buried alive in dust storms, and cooked in storms. They felt no real feelings and cried no tears, they had forgotten to when they were children. They were tight knit together, like a family, one knowing the other and sharing griefs. They never cursed the rich people, they never thought of them. They worked, they fed their children if possible, they dressed in dirty clothes, they were miserables, unhappy. There was no laughing, no happiness, no music, no flowers. If one cut out this unfortunate and unhappy scene, they would've seen a beautiful green land with decency and sweetness. Flowers blooming, grass growing, children smiling, having fun, Young boys picking flowers for their mothers, little girls dancing with their fathers to the beat of nature. The only houses larger than the ones in the middle were the victors homes, a pretty, playful place. Winds barely harmed these beautiful lands. Storms blew away no signs nor hurt anyone. Everything was bright and happy, besides the Games.

It was no doubt the Games. The poorer side struggled for things to wear, while the richer side bothered themselves with their beauty. Two Peackeeperes unwillingly made their way to the river, readying themselves for unpleasant sights and smells. As they grew closer, the grass and flowers decreased as so did the singing of birds and the tweeting of insects. The sounds were miserables as they grew closer, they saw a line of poor people, looking almost clean and nowhere near tidy. They grimly let down the bridge, which allowed these poor people to cross over to the place of happiness. As they did, everything seemed to freeze. It was like a parade, of monsters. These poor raggad, broken, misshaped, seemingly monstrous people crossing into a town which had never seen such miseraberality. These people marched in a straight line, not holding out anything, not even bothering too. They knew these people to be snobby and selfish, so what was the point in begging them and looking like fools. Coughing and the sounds of bleeding were heard from these crowds. The children of the middle and upper classes held unto their parents, hid behind them, blocked their young, innocent eyes from this horrific scene. It is worse than anything to see people suffering and dying before you. Too see people drop on their knees, to cough and raggle up like a doll being punctured. It made them cry out of fear, within their young selfish minds, they could only think that one day they might suffer like these people. Adults looked on these people with soft pity, that did escape their eyes easily, but their minds remained on the subject. The march lasted half an hour, as the poor made their way towards the nicely decorated Square. Some cried, it was the most beautiful thing they had seen. They shuffled into the back, which was small and cramped. But these peoples were used to it and could stand it.

Victors stood on the top, within large spaces and grand pillars, with plushy seats to sit on. These poor people had nothing but air to comfort their sore legs and backs. Their children hung unto their skirts and pant legs, for balance, and cried. The tributes were crushed between many people, away from their families with eyes more emotionless than a bird's. The mayor's family and the Peacekeepers were up with the Victors, clenching their noses when the stench of the poor reached them. Some coughed unintentionally. Middle and other upper class families sat in the front, in the seats resembling ones like in today's movie theatre seats. It was unhappy and gloomy, but no one rejected or showed it. Everyone was silent, except for the cries and groans of children. Every few minutes, a person would turn and shush those who were crying and groaning out of pain. It hurt them to do so, but anyone who disturbed the peace of the District, would be directly and severly punished. The anthem of Pamen roared through the place, everyone stood, except the poor who were already standing. They stared at the flag as it was hoisted upon the golden podium in the middle of the stage. There was obviously no time to waste. The middle class was near suffering to paleness from the stench and horrific sights of the poor, who while looking almost decent, were still marked poor and ugly. No pity was shown, or was allowed to be shown to this unfortunate, yet brave and humble people. The escort of this District, Mimi Blancos entered the stage and immediately made her way towards the girl's basket, which was embroided in pink and gold. She was short and girlish with an almost District look. It was obvious stylists had done her in at Beauty Base Zero. However, to the poor, she looked beautiful and radiant, so they looked at her with wide eyes. She read from the girls' names.

"Amarillys Carmellia" she announced looking out at the crowd, as if trying to decipher who it was.

This girl was among the middle class, which was fortunate compared to having a tribtue from the poor. She had sharp eyes, brown hair. She narrowed her eyes barely noticeably. If it were today, she would've been called an Asain with her eyes and gentle looks. She was pretty indeed, not like most of the ordinary looking kids of her class, nor the poor, scraggly kids of the poor class. She walked up to the stage, with a confident if not strong look. She kept her head held high, her satin dress flowing with her in a sweet grace which attracted the audience like Junebugs, which she happened to love. She slowly made her way upon the stage, her neck showing completely with her head held high and back, she looked like a well-dressed soldier,ready for orders. Where to die, or live. Applause and tears was the response of this brave remark, this girl walking up the stage, ready to take on the world. Ready to take on the Games themselves. While the audience was clapping, Mimi had made her way towards the boy's basket, embroided in blue and gold. Her eyes were tired when she read the name aloud.

"Ultimas Brevoche"

When she read this aloud, there was a burst of tears, all eyes turned to a very poor girl. She was only fifteen and would've been beautiful, except for her missing teeth, her cut hair, her terrible cough, her ugly tacky dress. She coughed a storm upon the floor and began to sob. A Peacekeeper made his way towards her. He picked her up, and slapped her across the face. Suddenly a boy from a rich family shotued.

"I volunteer!"

Everyone turned towards this boy, Hunter Wildthorn. A tall, reckless boy with an air so fantastic, it was breath-taking. The poor girl who had looked ready to attack this man, stopped and blinked at this boy curiously. He walked towards this poor, broken, ugly, dirty creature. She let a heavy breath and errupted in coughing. He made his way towards her. He loved her, it was now clear. And she did not respect him, until now. She did move when he squatted by her. She sat there, on her side. Her blond hair falling into her face. Her face was emotionless, a large red mark of blood decorated her pale face. He wiped it off with his hand. She gritted her teeth and watched him. Then she coughed, violently. He wrapped his arms around her and helped her up. Suddenly the Peacekeeper's knife was under her throat.

"What do you say, whore?" he spat the last word with such crueltly, it was hard to bear. The crowd murmured and gasped.

She looked at him plainly and opened her mouth, only a little, but enough to utter those two words.

"Thank you"

These words were quiet, but everyone could tell their meaning was much more, and could hear it. There was a few sobs from the crowd. The knife lowered from her throat. The little who had been called, exited the stage and ran to his sister, falling at her knees, holding onto her skirts. She held on back to him. But her eyes did not leave Hunter. He touched her cheek. She took his hand from there, and kissed it gently. With a pitiful, unhappy look, the boy made his way towards the stage, without a look back. He looked proud, like someone who had recieved a badge rather than a death sentence. Suddenly the girl choked out.

"Hunter!"

Her voice was scraggly and tight, but it shocked the entire audience. Hunter finally turned and raised his hand in a final good-bye. This was much too moving for some watching. The girl bent her head forward and cried, unhappily. This poor girl, who was once beautiful and admired, now ugly and alone with a little boy to take care of. The younger boy comforted her, and pushed her hair out of her eyes. She then cried into his torso, and he into her hair. Hunter took his place beside Amarillysvand they both bowed, before leaving without so much as a good-bye.


	9. District 6 Reapings

District 5 was only a start of the poor and rich dilemma. District 6 could be considered the same, or possibly worse. It was not built the same however. Reaping day here, was one of mourning and unhappiness to the rich, while it was a normal day to the poor. The poor were no more less fortunate than the ones in District 5, there were only more of them. This was because they had rebelled harder than the District 5, all of them had rebelled harder than the District before them. It was a desolate and lonely land, somewhere to be when in pain and sorrow. All houses were bunched together in a corner, right near the fence. Rich people lived next to middle class, and middle class lived next to those who were poor. And while they lived together, they did not interact. If a child who was rich was too see one of those poor "monsters", they would've hid and cry. The poor did not take it personally. They were humble, unhateful people and knew that they were smelly and ugly, broken and smeared with work. Even the children were like that. All homes were a simple gray, it was the inside and size and quality that made the difference. Rich homes were nice and large, but not fancy, those homes which were fancy belonged to the victors and to the mayor, which were a little ways down from these houses. They were made out of a lighter gray, with large glass windows and French doors. They were classy and old-fashioned. These were the only admirable house. The only thing better than the poor and the middle class that the rich people got was better service, better food, and more dependable resources. The houses took up one corner of the place, with shops diagnol from them. Like the houses, poor, middle-class, and rich shops where bunched together messily. But poor people never dared to enter anything past their dirty little shops, which caused diseases from entering them. It was almost painful to see a poor child, coming from one of these shops, coughing up a storm from the dust and grime lying on the walls and floor. Middle class, never had enough money to enter the rich shops, and rich people were always in a hurry, so they entered the rich shops to get the best service possible. There were many shops, not like the Capitol, but almost thirty at least. There were fifteen shops for the rich, ten for the middle class, and three for the poor.

Next to that, was the Peacekeeper Headquarters, which was the second largest one, the larger one belonging to District 2. There were dozens of them living in this castle-like, empty tower. It was very dull and gray, like an old castle of France or England. It was kept by a large gate, guarding out all citizens. There was a large stone amphitheatre, where Peacekeepers were annointed and chosen. It was a candle-lit arena, for these people lived very humbly, treating themselves as others, except they had authority. These Peacekeepers were dressed in black jumpsuits with whips and knives in their belts. They roamed the streets, looking for trouble, which rarely happened, since the rich respected them, the middle feared them, and the poor never did anything wrong. But they patroled anyway, especially on reaping day. On reaping day, the punishments were worse than ever, one who disturbed the peace would get punished with execution, hanging. So no one even dared to do anything but look ahead and walk without saying a word. They were already dressed. Their hair done in the nicest way possible and ther clothes nice. They were not forced to buy gifts, but it was allowed, so some people stuck aroundt to buy flowers. But they were mostly for their own tribtues, just in case. Because of the many poor people, there was lots of tessarae. It was extremely unlikely that a child from the middle or upper class would get picked. The poor were amongst each other, and that would be final.

It was now three o'clock, three hours until reaping time. People were finished buying off their little things. The poor families traveled home, weary from shopping. They laid down the little supplies they had on the table, and got ready to prepare for visiters. Friends would go to friends' homes and pray together, for the odds to be in their favor. It was the tradition of the poor to be with friends, to share a meal. The children set the tables with their finest decorations and utensils, which were made out of dirty metal. They washed them in buckets of water brought from the river. They then set them carefully on the bare, blistering table. They then dressed in their best dresses and suits, which were almost clean and extremely tacky. Chairs were fetched, candles were lit by sticks rubbed together. The family drew all curtains, and made them if they were gone. It was permitted to have curtains in every home. Then the cooked goods were laid on the tables, bread, beans, and cheese. There was no meat, nor vegetables. Only these few foods were passed around and shared. Soon friends would arrive and eat quietly. Then there was prayer. Everyone gathered at the back of the room and kneeled on the hard, dirt floor, and led in prayer, a long series of unfortunate prayers, begging their God to help them in their ways. And their reapings. Then, they would quietly talk until it was reaping time.

The middle and reaping class. They would go to their friends' and families' homes and cry together, making sure that they looked normal to leave. They hugged their children and prepared large, lavish dinners with turkey and all kinds of vegetables, which was the original dish for reaping day, not given on any other day of the year. Then they would get more ready, and do whatever there was left to do before they left their houses. When these were all done, it was time to go. It was a line. The rich lined up in lines of three first, starting with the tributes. They came to the middle, where a path crossed right through the middle where they would proceed up to the stage. Adults went to the right, while children went to the left in front, this was the poor people. It had no seats and the floor was hard and dirty. Middle class tribtues went to the next row, which was slighty more spacy and behind the poor peoples' row. This had wooden chairs, and was much more comfortable as far as space goes. Then the rich childrens' row came. It was extremely spacy with plush chairs and nice service. Each row was a difference to the rest. The rest of the people stood behind them, with the victors and mayor's family standing at a higher level. Everyone lowered their hats for the anthem. The place went dark. No one moved a muscle, and not out of fear, for this happened every year. It was too test the feelings of the people, too see if one would misbehave in any way, or a catastrophe would happen, by people by not knowing what was going on. Everyone stayed still when there was shuffling of feet ont the stage. The man who was known to be escort entered.

One tiny spotlight flashed down on him and everyone watched simply and quietly. He was short with dark hair falling in his eyes, he was normal skinned, thank god, and very bushy. His eyebrows here furrowed and his teeth were white and perfect. This was not something anyone but the poor noticed, for their teeth were mostly yellow and crooked, increasing to their ugliness. His name was Tress Nam. He was twenty-five. That was all that was known. He picked a name out of the ladies' box and read the name aloud.

"Gemma Deerbourn" he announced, thrashing his teeth wildly.

This spotlight turned on the poor girl. She was a middle class child. The crowd gasped. They had so expected a poor child, they could not comprehend what had just happened. The girl turned pale, unable to understand. She was tan and fair with curly brown hair. She stared around, looking fearfully into the eyes of many of her friends and acquaintances. Suddenly a wail cried out. A boy, looking a ton like her, came up to her, he was in a wheelchair, but obviously able to know what was going on. He gripped her arm. She stared at him with a complexity so deep, it hurt however witnessed it. Suddenly she turned, her expression completely gone mad.

"I can't! I won't go! No! I need to take care of my brother!" she cried turning around, looking for people to believe.

The boy pulled closer to her and she looked at him, tears streaming down her face. She then turned to the audience.

"Please! My brother! He can't go on his own! I have to care for him! He'll die! My family can't care for him! But I can! I swear" she grabbed the shirt of an upcoming Peacekeeper.

"Let's go" he whispered harshly.

Her bottom lip quivered, and anyone could tell she was going to break. It was painful to see this class clown, clever, funny girl being carried away and looking this way. It was painful enough to know she was going to the Games, but seeing her unwilling to sacrifice herself, was even worse.

"Volunteer! Please! Anybody" she cried out, slipping down to her knees, to keep the Peacekeeper from pulling her away.

No one said anything, they were too shocked, this was unreal to them. Those who didn't know her assumed she was lying, those who did were too pained and stunned to think about what she had just said. As predicted, she went crazy. Screaming, biting, hitting, slashing with her fingernails. The Peacekeeper could not keep her under control. She was screaming insults, attacking. Two Peacekeepers made their way towards her and tried to pick her up. She did not give, she was crying, tears streaming down her face. As they dragged her towards the stage, she was shouting the name of her brother, holding out her hand which he returned. As they dumped her onto the stage, she lay down, curled up in a ball, crying all the tears she could. The escort looked down with wierd stare. He stepped one step away from her. No one laughed or moved. He then read the boy's name he had selected while she had been going crazy on the floor. He then read it aloud.

"Axel Kihmari" he announced.

A fanfare played to drown out the horrific cries of Gemma. The boy stood up from his stand, looking as though he understood, and was not pained. He was poor, it was clear, but he was not as broken as most of his people. But he did look overworked and underfed. It was a moving moment, this girl, spread on the stage, this boy looking on her with pity alothough he was already more unfortunate than her. He looked at her softly. Slowly, applause began to rain down on them, allowing him time. He made his towards the crying Gemma. She did not see him come up nor did she care. She did not want to bond with anyone if she had to kill them. But when he offered her his hand, she looked up carefully. She then looked at him, as if trying to decipher if this was a joke. But she did not see anything suspicious and took his hand. He helped her up. She was still crying, but not as much as before. There was a moment of silence before a Peacekeeper led the two away.


	10. What You Should Know

**Hey! It's me, the author. I just want to let you, I'm out of tribtues. I'll need to wait to continue for awhile. This might sound wierd to you, but that's okay. I'll explain it.**

**1. I won't do any more visits or rides to the Capitol, it'll waste time, and I might get bored before I'm even at the Games. Besides, that would take up too much space.**

**2. I need more tributes. Please get more people to get me more tributes, because then the winner of the Games will be among those who I have already reaped.**

**Now that we got that cleared, I want to tell my plan for the Hunger Games. It'll go something like this.**

**1. When I am finished reaping, I will start on Chariot Day. I will use my girl tributes for this day. I will have three chapters on it, each from four tributes' POVs. For example, the first POV, which will be Aurora's will be preparing their outfits for the chariots. The second (Metal's) will be about getting ready for the chariots, knowing how to act and all. The next POV will be while they're in the chariots, saluting the Captiol, and that will be Lavender's. Then there's after the chariots, which will be from Audrina's. Then I'll start a new chapter and go in the same order from Amarillys, to the girl from District 8 and so on.**

**2. Then there will be the first training day, which will be from the boy's POV. It will go in the same order, except everyone will be at training while their POV is being taken. Same format though.**

**3. Then the girls will be for Interview day, each to her own interview and each watching their partners' interviews. **

**4. Then there will the final scores day, which will be the boys, who will watch their partners and themselves.**

**So now, let's go the Games themselves.**

**1. The POVs will go in order, like from District 1-12.**

**2. Keep in mind that I will only use some of your characters for bloodbath, I have already hat drawn three. **

**3. Don't get mad at me if I kill your character anywhere. It's the dang Hunger Games and only one can live, I can't make execptions, I will do what I have to do, thank you and enjoy.**

**-iluvmusicsomuch!**

Don't get discouraged by these, I'm just trying to make it clear that this is a story of the Hunger Games. I'll try to make it super interesting, but like most of you, I have school, activies, and studying. Thank you and may the odds be ever in your favor! :)


	11. District 7 Reapings

As we move on, the conditions. The rich people decrease and the poor and middle grow. This district was one of them. It was even less decorated, which was truly saying something, all the homes were made strictly the same, except for the mayor's home and the victors' houses. These houses were one storied and completely white with yellow shutters. The gardens were the only difference. People were allowed to grow flowers if they could afford it. Therefore, no garden was the same. The gardens of the rich people were plentiful with fruits, vegetables, and flowers of all kind. Anyone from the outside had a desire to roam around in them, smiling and bidding each other hello. But no one dared, for there were Peacekeepers among them in the most unexplainable way. The middle class did not have much time for gardens, and therefore, their gardens were neat, with a few wildflowers, but never so admirable as the richs'. But the poors' gardens were filthy and disgusting, unkept. You could easily tell whether a person was rich or poor here, you only had to look at their garden.

Now, District 7 was decent, but in no way beautiful. The grass was cut short, the streets neatly piled with dirt, the shops kept clean, even the shops of the poor. This was not organized in every way. Houses, polictical places, decorations, shops, and other places were all bunched together in handfuls around down. There were no streets, no pathways. People simply knew their way around since birth. The only that was admirable or organized, was the train station, with luxurious, nice trains and green grass. No one dared to go their, in fear that they would be caught, but once in a while, they could see it from a distance while on a school field trip. The only building isolated was the school which lay to the West of the "town". It was one large, crooked building with three different floors. The top floor was the best. It was conditioned, luxurious, and full of equiptment which the students could use. It was well organized and pretty. Any child on the top floor would recieve the best education possible. They learned everything, and even got specials. There were fifty people at different educated at this top floor. To make sure each wasn't lonely, they had them bunched together in a classroom with tons of different teachers. Then there was the middle floor, which was the middle class's place. It was not filthy, but not luxurious. It was neat and normal, as one would've said. The classrooms were filed nicely and since there were enough children, each grade had it's own class. Specials happened once a week for each class and the students were nicely educated. Sometimes, if a student was extremely good in the middle class, which is more than it sounds. They would have to be a complete genious. Then they would move up to the higher class. But sitting with strictly rich kids was a pain, especially when you would hear them talk of things which you couldn't have. Then there was the poor section, a dirty, grimey place, cleaned once a month. The classrooms were overly small, only a few teachers, and no specials. The poor was very small this year, considering that people needed their children to work as well as them. These children recieved a small education, learning things necessary to live with. These kids went to school until they were fifteen and then left to work for their families. Any middle or upper class child would not have to bother themselves with this disasterous sight. They climbed the stairs on the outside, or used the elevator is they were upper class.

The school was the tallest building, only being 1/6 the size of the a regular shop in the Capitol. The rest of the buildings were short and tidy. Even the richest buildings could not compare with the school. Not even the monument of President Snow or the Square was taller, although they were much more grand. Since these houses were all the same, they cost the same. And anyone unable to buy one, was forced to live on the streets, which was an unpleasant and deadly life. So in this case, there were tons of street urchins, searching for foods in the gutters and trash cans. Mostly , they were shooed away by richer people than they. Any cent to them, was a hundred dollars. They could buy a mouthful of bread with it, and a mouthful of bread meant no death for a few days. These urchins decreased the good looks of the city, so people blamed them. The Peacekeepers had their eyes on them. Any one who attacked a citizen above them, would be put to death in front of a crowd. It was not an easy death. Their death would be carrying large stones from one end of the District, to the other, until they could eventually no longer go and would be crushed. It was awful to see someone suffer so much, but anyone who let out a word of sorrow, would join that poor person in death.

Here, girls wore dresses and boys were pants, it allowed them to move faster. The middle and upper class girls were all cheeky and rosy with nice teeth and a sweet smile. In District 7, they married young, at sixteen usually. This was because the Capitol demanded more children to reap, so teenagers married and bore children. The poor girls, were forced to work by age five, roughly two years after boys. They wore anything, from pants to skirts and tried not to get in anyone's way. They never smiled and usually were missing a few teeth, which was disgusting to see including the filth of their mouth. They humbly made their way about town, not paying attention to anyone. Boys worked at three and were forced to do worse work. The reason girls did slightly easier work, so that they would not be too weakened to have children. But boys were broken and worn down, it was completlely impossible to see a boy without bones broken at awkward angles and his face contorted and worn. This was not a pretty sight at all, so as in other Districts, the rich kept to their business, as did the poor to their own. It was reaping day, a challenge and haunting for everyone, which brought them together. Instead of seperating on this day, they combined together. The poor were almost tolerable to look at on this day, for they dressed dirtily, but decently. Their dresses and suits had no holes or revealing spots in them. These people gathered at the Square, a few hours before their time of reaping, seven. Here, a tradition in District 7, was that everyone would gather around, and sing their hearts out to a guitar and piano which were played by rich people. Knowing this and seeing it every year, the Peacekeepers gathered around, their eyes alert for trouble. They sang the sames songs as every year, _Meadow Dew, My Fair Girl, Good-bye Dear Old Friend, Sisters and Brothers, _and an old time favorite _Trade With Me. _While the name couldn't mean less to some, the song was powerful and beautifully written with "notes of gold and tongues of silver". The music was soft and dreamy, like a lullabye. It was alluring and careful, while also being powerful and heart-breaking. It was about a soft lonely soul, begging for love in a cruel world. It was like a haunting story. _Each year, the meadows will bloom, and fade, and bloom once more. Each year, the world renews. But when my soul leaves this Earth. There's no more bloom, no more life. _And by the end of it. Some cried, while some had experienced too much to cry. It was the closest moment between poor and rich there was ever in any District at all. Some districts could care less about how to poor felt compared to the rich. By the time the song had ended, it was time for the reaping. The Head Peacekeeper had come on stage, his head held high and proud, with an evil smile, taking over his face.

"Shuffle in and hurry! We don't want to miss anything!" he ordered the audience, cracking his spiked whip.

The audience began to gasp and murmur and shuffle around until each had a seat. Some sat upon the floor. The poor and rich were officially mixed. It was an uncomfortable experience, with someone always at your shoulder. But no one complained. They were going to be reaped, that was all entered their heads. The anthem played, with difficulty, everyone rose and placed their right hands over their hearts. They sat down again, and the reaping began. The escort entered the stage. A girl wth long yellow hair and orange skin, almost resembling our old enemy, the Head Daisy. Except she was pretty. The audience waved and cheered. She made her way towards the pile of girls' names. She smiled.

"Why! Lot's of people have been taking the tessarae this year! That's so exciting! More tribtues! More tension" she smiled at the audienced, waved her hand, and they watched in awe as a piece of paper flew into her open palm. They errupted in clapping.

"So!" she cleared her throat on this note to hush it down.

"Our lady tribtue is..." she looked out at the audience, who were leaning from the edges of their chairs. She giggled and flicked her hair, and then screamed the name.

"Charity Jackson!"

A loud round of applause came from the crowd. The girl who was chosen looked bewildered, but not afraid. She looked behind her and began to walk up quickly. People let her pass through easily. She made her quickly and effortly, using all her muscle, which would've hurt if one should've felt it. But everyone was well out of her way, so no one was hurt. She stood on the stage, uncomfortably, thankful when she finally made her way towards the boys' pile. She did the same thing she had done with Charity's name and read it aloud without hesistation.

"And now for our male tribute, Keahi Lanash !"

As soon as this was said, the boy who was said to be Keahi dashed up onto the stage. He had been standing next to it, waiting his turn to be reaped. He was almost positive it would happen since he had put in much tessarae. He was poor, but not broken as he had only worked a little, being the youngest in his family. He has dark-skinned and far underweight. His eyes were heavy brown and sad. No one volunteered, and it was a wonder. Perhaps the other siblings thought themselves more useful. He took his place next to this middle class girl. She looked better than he, but not pretty. She wavy and bouncy auburn hair and deep eyes, which were saddened by the news of her reaping. She looked emotionless as soon as a camera flashed in her eye. She then straightened and look right ahead, at...? No one would know. It was more of staring off into space. She continued to stare off into space as she followed the train of Peacekeepers and her fellow tribtue. Looking as though she had been slapped with love dust. No yank from her escort could get her to turn around. She stared into space, until she disappeared behind the curtain. Of death.


	12. Some Info In Case You're Lost

**I realize no more people are entering, so therefore, I can't update as much. So please people! Send in more tributes, or I'm going to select the winner of the Hunger Games without them! I'm really into this and I just want to let you know what's been going on, and who the tributes are, for those of you who don't know. Also, I've already told you what the Hunger Games were going to look like, but I haven't really completely explained it thoroughly, or as much as I could, so I will now. I've already told you what things were going to look like up to the Hunger Games, but I haven't got far.**

**The Hunger Games: **

**The Bloodbath: I will select three to go in the Bloodbath. They are the only ones who will not get their POV done in the Hunger Games, sorry. **

**In What Order it will Go: I will do four people per page, if I don't get to your tribute because they died, I'm sorry. But at least they had a chance in two other catagories. I will do it in order, starting from Aurora, Nate, Metal, and Justin in one page, and continuing down the line. If one of them dies, I will go to the next.**

**Deaths: Deaths will be told in POV of another tribute, at the end of the SYOT, I will do a session, from one of their family member's or friend's POV. That's if you people want it like that. PM me if you have a problem with that, and I'll see.**

**The Victory: The victorious touch will be told in three person. This way, no one will know who's gonna win. Then the person will be rescued. Whoever's tribute wins, I will PM you and ask you how you want your tribute to react to their winning. I will then do their recovery and visit to the stage in their POV. I will also do them reuniting with their family. But I won't do the victory tour.**

**Thanks and that's it for the Hunger Games. I hope I'll get to them soon. Anyway here's your so-far list of tributes, only the ones I have reaped since I only have enough for that.**

**District 1:**

**M: Nate Morgue** **(Rivers of Venice)**

**F: Aurora McQueen (I'm A Little Cinna)**

**District 2**

**M: Justin Tulio**

**F: Metal Grates (VioletCrisomDespair)**

**District 3**

**M: Beau Atkinson (I'm A Little Cinna)**

**F: Lavender Jones (I'm A Little Cinna)**

**District 4 **

**M: Robin Phoenix Tennysen (Rivers of Venice)**

**F: Audrina Thorndew (BeeFonexx)**

**District 5:**

**M: Hunter Wildthorn (BeeFonexx)**

**F: Amarillys Carmellia (Anilem Atarih)**

**District 6:**

**M: Axel Kihmari (zorack1995)**

**F: Gemma Deerbourn (Wings-of-Ivory)**

**District 7:**

**M: Keahi Lanash (I'm A Little Cinna)**

**F: Charity Jackson**


	13. District 8 Reapings

The Districts get much worse as we go down. Now in District 8, there were only ten rich families, who lived in isolated gate areas, at the corner of the entire District. The middle class, was not by far the largest class, poor followed closely behind. The rich were the most glamourous. They lived isolated from the poor and middle class, who were bunched together. The rich lived behind large gates. Here, there were nice cars, large stores, many party places. There were only a few Peacekeepers there, and rich people had most rights. They paid no taxes and lived almost like the Capitol. Since there was so few of them, they lived tight-knitly, like a family. There were at least twenty-eight children behind these gates, who played, dressed finely, ate well and laughed a lot. They also trained for the Hunger Games, just in case. But the chances of getting chosen were mere and tiny. At lest for them, so life was swell in the upper class, but only for so few.

The middle and poor class, as we said, were mixed together in the middle of town. Poor and middle shops combined. However there were no working places in the middle, those belong a mile back. In order to reach work, you would have to walk a mile there, but there was transportation, like buses and carts. But the poor mostly walked, for they could not afford. This resulted in being tired as possible, so things were not easy. But middle class life was fairly nice. They lived in small houses, in nice neighborhoods with some grass and a few plants. They had enough supplies to do with and recieved fair salaries fromt their jobs. In these neighborhoods, large school buses picked up the kids, and drove them to school avenue, which was to the west. School avenue was pretty much a bunch of schools placed together. Each school was for a different job. Here, no one but rich kids had full education. Here, you started at 5, learned whatever was necessary for your job, and a little bit of history of Panem, and then you were done by age twelve. It was short and quick, then there came the year of rest, which was until you were thirteen. Then you worked in your given position. Some middle class children could afford to train for the Hunger Games, but most entered with whatever weapon or skill they had.

The poor had it worse. There were no buses nor carpools to pick them up, since most couldn't afford transportation, they walked to work. They worked full hours, until nightfall and returned home in packs by foot. Their houses were dirty and tiny, having a kitchen, and a bathroom, and a bedroom. If any poor people wanted children, it would have to be gratified by the mayor, who was pitiful and allowed them to do so. But every parent who sought to bring a child in the world, took the risk of losing them by age twelve. The poor were educated poorly for their job, which did not require much, and were usually working by eight years of age. These people were not smart, they were anything but decent. They were dirty, ugly, filthy, uneducated, and mannerless. They had no time for manners as other people did. The children never played, nor sang, nor did much. They simply went on with their lives, working and caring for their househole. Here, there were too many people in need of work, so work could not take them. Some were selling themselves out on the street, and their bodies. Some grew their hair and sold it to a barber whenever it got long. Most of their teeth were missing, and their clothes were torn completely. These poor people made their way through the streets, unhappily, but not complaining, for all the Peacekeepers were about them, looking for trouble. Not smart enough too, the people never rebelled, nor spoke harshly of the Capitol. They were a family, they cried together, they prayed together, they sang together. But today there was none of that. It was each family for its own, and it was reaping day.

The rich young ladies looked most beautiful out of all, not because of their physical appearance. They all wore their hair up, braided and twirled. They laughed and giggled and talked about boys. Their dresses were make of silk and draped down past their knees. Dazzling makeup covered their lovely faces, which were already rosy and sweet. They were girls of all ages, from two to eighteen. Most of them were eager for these years Hunger Games, for they were almost never chosen. The prettiest of these girls was a well-known one, Dahlia. She was tall, and very thin, with her lips red and her cheeks pink. She wore a Parisian hat and a long laced, silked white dress, draping to her knees. Her blonde hair was pinned up and looked like a lovely white ribbon, to match her outfit. They held a large party before the reapings. Some middle class friends were invited and they danced to lively, wild music. Dress skirts flew around the room as feet penetrated the hard stone floor. Girls giggled, boys smiled, lifting them into the air. Dahlia danced the best, looked the prettiest, and was the smartest. She danced with her fiancee, Michael. She looked dazzling, flying around the room, the skirt of her French dress twirling with her lean body. She smiled at nearly everyone. The party was just beginning.

The middle class girls were something differnent. They wore nice clothes, clean ones. They were not tacky, but they were not dazzling. Their hair was usually loose of in a pony tail. They were very pretty today, putting on no makeup, but not working that day so that they were wonderfully clean. They wore long dresses, coming to their heels and their jewelry was quite tacky. There were no parties, nor laughing nor giggling. They simply made their way about town, buying things and checking out stuff. Some were doing last minute training. They were worried, because some had taken the tessarae, and they didn't like reaping day. It seemed unfair and unjust in all ways. No one spoke of it, however, except in the most private places, which were almost nowhere. There were rain clouds hanging in the sky, for the people here, it seemed like heaven. It had not rained in many months, and the lands were dry enough to start a wild fire by breathing silently. The boys of the middle class were doing the same as the girls, preparing, saying good-byes, praising. They seemed more unhappy of the Hunger Games however, more likely to rebel. But, since it was reaping day, they did not even think about endangering themselves of their families. So they shuffled and kept quiet with whispers and mutterings that seemed to go with the wind.

The poor class was the most up and about. Being poor, they had to work, no matter what. So they were working without hesitation, at their factories and shops. Kids were in school at the beginning at the day as well. They were now all at home, getting ready for the reaping with the only good clothes they could find. The women tied back their hair, to keep it out of their faces. The men cut it, if it was too long. Women also wore dresses for this one day of the year. The dresses, however, were thin and provided no warmth for it's bearer. So most girls and women were freezing. Men wore their best suits, which was a shirt and dark pants that weren't dirty. They also wore boots, while women wore slippers. None of them looked pretty, or even desired to. They were beaten down with yellow teeth, most were missing teeth, and some were without any at all. They were simply people, and it angered no one to see them. They were so close to outnumbering the middle class, it was no laughing matter. Slowly, middle class families turned poor, and rich families turned middle, with poor becoming street urchins, getting their food from trash cans and gutters. But there a few who did so, and they were of the poorest. Any money they got their hands on, went straight to buying bread from a poor shop, which sold dirty, ineffiecient bread. But it was enough for them. The urchins never gave anything about reaping day, they wore their everyday clothing as if it was everyday. Since they were completely dirty and ugly, they could not enter the Square, which was next to the rich peoples' homes. It was tall and nice with lots of lights and prettiness. People were slowly gathering outside, where there was no sound, except for distant thunder. The clouds had rolled in. It was reaping time.

Suddenly a bell from the Peacekeepers' Tower began to ring across the town. Everyone raised their heads, said their last prayers, and headed towards the Square. The first to go in were rich people, starting off with victors and the Mayor's family. They got the top seats above the ground. The rich were right under them, in a luxurious place. There were plush seats, and a carpet. The middle class and the poor were mixed together. They sat on wooden benches and the tributes filed in front of them, with nothing to sit on. The ceremony began. The Mayor made his way up to the stage. He was a short, stalky man with deep green eyes and shaggy gray hair. He wore a navy blue suit. He had three daughters, of all whom had married. One of the daughters, Pepita, who was in reality Pelliphitis, had a little son who was named Joshem, The Mayor then began his speech.

"Welcome my fellow citizens of District 8. Today, we celebrate the reapings, honor the Capitol, and route for the tributes of our district. We will start by our opening hymn" he then signaled a band underneath the stage to begin playing.

Soon enough, the crowd followed in the national anthem of Panem. They were singing without enthusiasm and joy, however. They felt like they had no reason too. They were forced to however, try to act enthusiastic, since Peacekeepers were always floating around the crowds, cracking their whips to remind these poor people of their weakness. So, they hung on to their good moods until the anthem finally ended and then they sat down. Then, a few more people came up to speak, including that year's mentor. When she finished her speech, a tall man entered the stage, with a large magician suit on. It was bright and shiny, clearly showing off the Capitol's fashion, which now reflected on the people as wierd and overactive. He hugged the mentor and then signaled for the audience to settle down.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Boys and girls! Welcome to this years 34th annul Hunger Games!" he shouted the last few words and lifted his arm into the air, signalizing power.

The crowd clapped and quickly fell silent. Then the escort gave them a brilliant stare, and continued.

"Well! Might as well get this over with. I'm sure you all have lots of celebrating to do! Besides, hasn't it been, like, one hour you've all been here?"

Saying this, he made his way to the ladie's box, which looked like a treasure chest. He carefully opened it, and drew one name.

"Alana Morales" he announced without his microphone.

No one heard the name and looked around. All except the tribute, who turned paler than the floor at her feet. She took baby steps to the stage, looking down so that no one would see her face, which was trying to conceal emotions. Her mousy brown hair fell in front of her face, hiding it from the cameras and people. Her clothes were droopy and messy. She walked up the stairs and stood beside the mentor, who stood at the side of the stage. Not paying any attention to this, the escort made his way towards the boys' chest and drew a name from it.

"Silth Worldler"

Everyone looked around, and a boy from the middle class section stood up, his eyes focused on the stage in a slightly unsteady way, and his mouth open. He wore a nice suit, smelling of roses. Not the kind of roses which contained President Snow, but nice red roses which grew in nice gardens. He was obviously older than sixteen, his hair fell into his eyes and came to the back of his neck. His eyes were almost silver. He slowly made his way up to the stage, obviously exalerated. He ignored a few cries behind and a hint of a smile came on his face when the crowd fell into applause. His smile was very carassing and understanding, very charming. Some girls sighed, others laughed. It was a relief. Two tributes, neither were poor. However, their families were crying, and being escorted by the Peacekeepers outward. The girl still refused to lift her face, even as the escort raised both their hands and shouted "Here are the tribute from District 8 of the 34th Hunger Games!"


	14. District 9 Reapings

Here, the desolate lonely feeling of being lost and cold was automatically stuffed inside any person as soon as they could get a look at it. It was a very lonely and desolate place, District 9. They were never buzzing with life or excitement, that any other districts held. The train station was far off from the town. So all anyone saw when they unboarded, was a long and winding road, with crumpled up newspapers and weeds flying around. Here, it was almost meant to rain every day, for clouds usually hung in the sky, blocking the heavy sun. The escort, Miss Quall Geonelt, hurried quickly through the train station into the waiting car. She did not look outside at the ugly place. She instead, stared into her lap, which held a slideshow she would present in front of the many people of her District. She didn't like being here, for there were only two victors, one being old and beat-up, and the other being nearly mad. On the way, there were workers, who worked in the many fields and picked up leftover grains and wheat for their families, or their jobs. They were poor and very broken and worn out. Most of them were in their twenties, but they looked in their fifties with filth and work. In facsination, these people watched Quall's car go by, for none of them had any of their own. They walked wherever they could. Realizing who was inside, they all saluted it. Miss Quall smiled back, and waved, but inside, her heart was disgusted with all the filth and grime. She was a natural tan, with fresh breath and blue hair, her face being soft and pretty. She was spirited, young, and out in the world. She had a fiancee, whom she was to marry in a month. She dreamt of him whenever she wasn't around him and worshipped him. It was an hour before she reached the first trace of town, three shops, bunched together. They were around an uneven stale road.

These shops belonged to everyone, and were of normal quality. They were food and book shops, serving all kinds of food, not fancy, but decent enough to eat without choking. They were cooked in small, but clean pots and the cooks were usually middle class, so they didn't poison the food either. Some food was free, so most poor people hung around after work, where they gathered the free food for their families. But most of it cost two dollars at the most. This allowed some poor people to afford these meals. But the poor here, were somewhat worse off in money terms than the others. By working ten long hard hours, one poor person may gain three dollars. Two and a half of this was spent on food, and the rest put away for spring shopping, which was usually buying clothes for the reaping. The books shops were small and tidy, worthy of the rich in some terms, besides the people who entered. The poor only came by to admire the books, and the middle class sometimes read in their spare time, but never bought books such as the rich did. These books were from fine literature, to trashy little novels. Sometimes, poor schools took field trips to these shops, to learn a few words to read. Usually, the poor were never taught to read more than a few words, or write more than their name.

After these shops, a few miles down, were the clothing and extra shops, it was in an untidy plaza where all kinds of people hung around. Anything else people needed, was placed here. There at least five shops here, two clothing, one supply shop, a blacksmith's, and a pet shop. Pets were usually dogs, horses, or anything useful to a family. Cats were available only to rich people, who could afford them and take care of them. But since rich people were so rare in this District, there were too many cats available, therefore they were shipped off every year to the Capitol, where nearly every household owned a cat. But there were many dogs and horses to be sold as well, to people who could also afford them. This part of town was a place for everyone. Clothes were classified into poor, rich, and middle sections. Sometimes, a middle class person might find a rich peice of clothing on sale and buy it, same went for the poor. Any clothes which were broken or torn, were for free, allowing the poor to gather at the corner of the shop relentlessly. They quickly gathered what they needed and left. The poor section included the tackiest and dirtiest clothes on the street, but they were clensed and repaired, and allowed the poor to dress somewhat decently. There were a few hats on the hangers, two scarves at a time, at least enough coats for half the population, and lots of normal dressing. These clothes were mostly bought for the reaping, but remained on for the rest of the year. The middle class was anything normal. There were more choices, such as simple jewerly, and simple accessories. The rich included everything, from buttons to long silky dresses. This was where most teenage rich kids spent their time, shopping, eating, and enjoying their money. While poor clothes cost almost nothing, rich clothes cost quite a bit, even in terms of the rich. But anyone rich, was super rich, and therefore, the prices were usually ignored.

Then there were houses, in three rows, rich, middle and poor. The poor was now the largest. They were small houses, all made up of brown material. Their yards were dirty and usually unattended to, but they allowed a sanctuary for all the poor people to gather with friends, and simply think and rest. They were ugly, but not completely desolate. They were cheerful on holidays and celebrated with nearly everyone in the poor section. A poor person knew almost everyone on their street and children and adults were friends, who helped each other and bought presents for each other. Today being the reaping, people were meeting each other and wishing each otehr good fortune and luck. Some trades were going on, and a few games, including adults and children. Some were dancing and laughing. These poor people talked with such heavy accents and slang, it was hard to understand them. They mixed up vowels, and dropped some other letters, such as j and h. They were commoners, and usually worked as factory people, pruners, or assisants. They knew how to celebrate and dance, and sing, and work at what they were meant to do. The school taught them nothing but how to do things in their jobs, so they were uneducated. However, they learned to dance and sing from their parents and grandparents, for it was a tradition passed down, and music brought hope to these people. They never went out of their limits, never thought of beginning a rebellion, instead they grieved children in the Hunger Games, and were nervous whenever the reaping came around.

The middle class was less tight-knit. They were loose and free. They walked around, bidding hello to some people, ignoring others. People played on the streets, and stuck with their groups. Houses were lined somewhat evenly, except for a few crooked ones. The gardens were green in the spring, lush in the summer, orange in the fall, and blue in the winter. It rained, poured, snowed, and hailed on these people, but it did not affect them. They lived near a river, which was meant for bathing, cooking, cleaning, water source, and in some cases, playing. There was an old rope, which no one bothered to use, in fear of it breaking. But other than that, they played Marco Polo, and Skipper, which was a rock skipping contest. Most kids gathered there after school with friends, if they didn't work, and played without getting wet. It was a nice spot, with a few trees, and well-cut grass, kept nice by the community. The school did teach kids how to read mild books, small chapter books. So, they read quietly for school. But they were mainly taught math, science, history, and grammar. Some worked, to keep the family in order. Most workers here were apprentices, or main workers who worked in the district's main resources. Anything additional to learn, such as music, or dance, cost too much for most people to afford and keep steady their finances, so they kept away from that kind of stuff. So instead, they busied themselves about learning and work.

The rich was always the same as every place, except there were only five rich families, not including the mayor and the two victors. These families were not well-known, or pointed out. They lived a private, happy life, learning everything from art, to history on Panem. They did not even have to enter the Hunger Games until they were sixteen, which completely lessened the chance of getting picked. There is not much more to say, besides they were happy and completely oblivious to the rest of the world.

The Square and the headquarters were lined up together at the end of the District, and barely dressed in anything besides white ribbon, which symbolized the Hunger Games, and how they felt about it. Which was happiness and thankfullness that they could live in peace without people bugging them every minute. The young escort finally arrived, and put away the picture of her finacee. She then exited the car, and put away her sunglasses, allowing her eyes to be exposed to the humidity and desolacy of the land. The Head Peacekeeper greeted her and led her in. A few people who were gathered outside the Square waved and cheered. She smiled and waved back as she was escorted inside the Square. She could finally breathe when she had entered the place. She then settled down on a large soft and looked over her speech paper. It was crumpled and the handwriting was nearly impossible to read. She scowled and pulled out a peice of paper, and began to once again write. Writing her own words, and whatever words she could read on the other sheet.

In thirty minutes, people were let in. They were escorted into rows of three, all in the same order of before. A large television appeared behind as Quall entered the stage, with her white vest luminating the yellow and blue lights which were sprung down on her. She smiled her white smile as she entered.

"Thank you my bunnies" as she said this, many people roared in laughter, while their hearts were panging with sadness.

"For 33 years, the Capitol has kept the Hunger Games, as a reminder to the people of weakness. They have been exciting and happy for all those to see. Here is a slide show of all the Hunger Games, and it's past victor's!"

Everyone clapped, and the televsions brightened with lovely pictures of each and every tribute. There was not one sound from the audience. These innocent children, forced to kill, for the sake of living could hardly keep from crying. Sympathy fell from the crowds onto families of those who had lost these dears, who had died for the Capitol's entertainment. It was terrible enough to die, but for entertainment! That was far to much. After showing each tribute, the screen blackened, leaving the crowds with ashened faces and crushed hearts, with all past dreams and hopes gone from their pitiless, unmerciful hearts. Why should they grieve? These were only children of other's, who had to suffer. But there was a different feeling. It was as though these kids were their own. They weren't, but they belonged to the same community, hung to the same hopes, and felt the same way. It was if they were saying good-bye to a dear friend, except every year had one torn from them, just to show how helpless they were.

When this was done, Quall saluted the Capitol and laughed happily. She then drew a name from the female hat, as if it were for someone to recieve a prize, rather than to be condemned to death.

"Clara Harington" she announced loudly.

The entire place collapsed into applause the girl rose from her position, trembling, but looking as though she were hard as a rock. She did not let her hair fall into her eyes, she kept it back. It seemed as though it was the work of monsters who created this ugliness, this confusion, that she should be chosen. What was going on inside this girl's thoughts. It was not the normal thing that most would feel, other than the complete pain and fear of being in the Hunger Games. The clouds had gathered together and poured. The poor girl looked behind her, she was still standing still, trembling as thoughts overwhelmed her. She heard nothing, a pen dropped could be heard. She then took her first step, which seemed heavier than the largest machine there. It echoed throughout the room. She then stepped forward again, gaining power through each step. Her eyes not overwhelmed with anything but braveness. It was with real confidence that she stepped up. A sob was heard throughout the entire place. One tiny sob.

Clara Harington had but one person who truly loved her, Aunt Titi. This babysitter of hers, was the only one who could make her laugh, or cry at the same time. She was the only one who could put a smile or frown. This sob came from this woman, who loved this girl more than anything. Clara turned around, tears forming in her large eyes. She came to the end of the stage, and outstretched her hand. Her aunt grasped it and kissed it gently. The poor girl seemed ready to break down. But instead, she held a silent farewell by a raising of her hand. She kissed her three fingers and held it out to her aunt, who looked bewildered and pained. She began to sob. Tears were threatening to spill over the girl's eyes. She then took her place besides Quall, looking ahead, looking for whom? Her parents. They seemed to care nothing for her, and this was usually known as true, which in fact it wasn't. They both loved her, but could not find the time to support her and show her it. So now, Clara was by herself. Quall then picked a boy's name.

"Tahini Unakite" she announced, looking around the room.

This boy arose from his position. He then looked around, as if seeing if any volunteers would step forward. He stood here for a moment, looking around blankly. At his friends. Friendship only goes so far on the day of the reaping. He dropped his eyes and came towards the stage, looking down as if struck by a heavy hand. His feet seemed to wield chains, which also seemed to control his hands. His hair fell in front of his face. He did not say nor do anything. He slowly slumped up the steps. The people watched in pain, as they did every year. Clara with her head in her hands, and this boy seemingly dragged by chains to this position. His eyes fell on the crowd from the top of the stairs, he said nothing, but looked as though he still expected a volunteer. Anyone might've called it, but no one bothered. So he was pulled away from his life, next to the girl which he may or may not kill. His eyes met hers for a moment, and dropped. It was not warm, it was not cold. It was perfectly still.


	15. District 10 Reapings

And now we come to the last District with real rich people who weren't victors, or political leaders, District 9. It was for the most part ignored by outsiders, but it was a heavy state to deal with. It even looked heavy from up high. It was dark and cloudy, like District 8, but it was certainly lovely. A gentle breeze blew over silently. It was large and crowded, but it still felt desolate all the same. The walls were dark, and the streets were dirty, even the night sky looked brighter than this town. People dressed in black everyday, whether he was rich, poor or middle class. There was not much talking to be done, only whispers of wind blowing across the land. The fields looked as though they had been burnt, but in the sunlight, were a rich, warm brown, but there was never much sunlight, it was always dark and cloudy, henceforth creating a hard, miserables life for the poor of the town. Capitol people despised this place worse than any of the others, for it was desolate and miserable. There was singing, no dancing, everything was in order. It was not creepy, not emotionless, only sad. No person held a happy face. Most likely because this was were most of the Peacekeepers were, patrolling and beating whoever so much as argued with someone.

There was but one car in the entire place, a large black limousine, meant for the escort each year. Even the mayor's family and victors walked everywhere, showing their black clothing. The reason for this, was staying out of horrible trouble, which was punished easily. They feared they might hit someone if they drove, so they walked carefully, spoke silently, and moved without so much as spreading a muscle. They worked, they slept, they ate, they were simple people. They never clapped, nor cheered, for this could be looked on as sarcasim. So while the storm once again rolled in, they walked and did nothing. They paid no attention. They simply went on and on, looking forward, like robots. But if the robot got out of order, it would be broken and beaten, and humiliated and possibly put the death.

People were not a work today. It the only day of the season, where they were required to wear white, which seemed like a major difference. Everything they wore was white, to symbolize rejoicing, something this people did not do often. Even the rich chastely dropped their eyes before everything but their work. They were taught, but nothing special, only the normal subjects one might find in a normal school. It was simple and thought unworthy of the Capitol's festivites. They dressed in both black and merino. They hardly thought of what they wore, so that they would look decent and well-kept. It was an insult to this community with only one victor, that one should wear any other color besides mourning. The girls wore bonnet-like hats, tied around their chins and looked more like nuns than young ladies. They wore this until they married when they let their hair down, allowing thier spouse to see their long, usually beautifully kept hair. Hair was required to be long for girls as well. They walked in straight lines, and nearly never smiled.

Middle class was pretty much the same, except the luxury and money was reduced. The middle class also dressed less formally, however with the same manner. It was required that neither boy nor girl should look young or pretty. They should be formal, straight, and not overly proud of their looks, which came in when makeup was ordered out of the town. While the rich lived in large, grey manors, and buried their loved ones in their backyards with lots of beautiful flowers, middle class people were forced to have them buried at the town cementary, which no one bothered to visit. There a special place in them for the tributes, who were buried under some flowers, but the rest had no flowers nor decoration above. All stones were cut the same, and looked the same. There were no names, only signs, like a rose, or a flower to indicate who was buried under. It depended on the person's job, family, and friends. But it was still confusing to find it in the midst of all these graves. But they never wore out, and were always there. Today, many people gathered out, wearing their white cloth and hair down. Some looked formal and simple, others looked dazzling. It was literally a black and white society, with no exceptions of any other colors, such as brown, blue, or rose. Not even for people themselves. The reaping would take place soon, so people honored their former tributes, almost none whom had made it home to their parents. The one victor, stood at the top of it, the white reflecting the storm clouds, making it look grey.

The poor were literally gray, their black clothes being worn in all their work and hardships. They now wore lighter grey clothes, which were apparently mean to be white. They did not look as worn down as most did on reaping days. Some of them looked somewhat fair, maybe even decent. Their houses were very worn, on the other hand. The only decorations were parts which were worn gray. Hats and scarves were advised not to be worn. Any advice, was an order, so none were worn. These people srumbled around their small villages, searching for the best food and clothes they could afford to find. Children walked in quiet lines to the Square, where it was tradition for them to go beforehand the reaping. They walked in straight lines, starting with the five rich children, dressed in complete black. Then came the middle class children, being over a little over two thousand of them. How can such a procession work with so many children? Any child who refused to participate would be killed in front of their parents, as a sign that the Peacekeepers reigned this small "useless" place. The poor were over four thousand, which was grown by a lot. In total, there were at least six thousand tributes that year. The population was meant to be limited, so that the Peacekeepers could keep in balance. Younger children and adults watched this procession with deep emotions, and heavy hearts.

The procession the Square was long and rocky, with rocks from little pebbles, to giant boulders on the way, introducing the Games as such. The rain and thunder was the worst of all times. Balls of fire pounced on the backs of these poor teenagers. They tried to ignore the whistling wind, and the cold harsh rain, but it wasn't easy. However no one complained, or even said a word, for anything seemingly rash or defensive, would get the entire group large whippings, which tore skin of their backs.

But in luck, there were no punishments so far that day, no whippings nor killings. It was cruelty, but it seemed justice to the Peacekeepers. This was what District 10 was about, law and order. Straight and full, never anything else. It was painful, it was cruel, but some saw it as justice, only order after a rebellion, that could've killed millions, and swept out an entire District. Some blamed on themselves, saying that it was human's faults that the Hunger Games were there and it was only just. But these children here, would make anyone belive otherwise. They were cold, shivering, and being shuffled off to be shown how they were going to die, and why they were up to die.

In this pouring rain, the children were forced to walk four miles, whereas everyone else, would be taking a city bus to this place. Everyone was already there, the escort, the mentor, looking bored and unsafe. The escort, was tall with a blonde ponytail. One would've thought it was a girl by simply seeing him. But it was no doubt a male, a copycat of girls. He wore his hair nice and long, his teeth were completely white, and he smoked an electric cigarette, to keep from ruining his nice health, for he was in good shape, as a boy. He was no older than twenty-two. He was tall and majestic, strong and lean. He smiled at everyone and laughed a lot. He like children of all kinds, even teenagers, and longed to see these ones. He, like any other Capitol person, was into the Hunger Games, and expected it to go on for as long as it could.

These children had not even yet reached the Capitol, and a long, hard hour had passed. The storm had not settled, but had only gotten worse. It was now hailing, and there were two more miles left to walk, and at their pace, they felt they would never reach in time, which was an obvious feeling they felt always. It was late in the afternoon, about three o'clock. The reapings were to take place in two hours. And before, the children would be forced to walk a slide show on the Hunger Games, and forced to rejoice upon it. They had never rebelled or complain, just looked straight and walked. No friends stood beside friend, which was not odd. For in this District, friends were a curse.

In a straight two hours, they had reached the place, only an hour before the reapings were to start. This was much too late for the Peacekeepers, who enforced punishments by whipping the crowd, hitting random people as they aimed at the air. The children hardly bore this and were carried up to the stage, where Yosmite Olap, the escort greeted them.

"Hi there" he greeted shaking hands with a few eighth graders in the front.

At the Peacekeepers hands, the children muttered back their greetings, afraid to sound sarcastic or say too much. No one did either, so they were kept unpunished. Their escort grinned a white smile and led them over the stage. They all inserted their names into the given baskets, wrapped in blue or pink. They then went to stand by the ends of the stage. He smiled.

"You all know the rules. I've seen some have taken the tessarae! That's good, don't want too little people entering in" he then laughed to make sure they were listening.

"Yes! Well, we are now going to show you our slideshow, put on every year, for tributes in other Districts. Now gather around, there's a TON of you, and that's a lot, so come on" his ridiculous accent spilling all over the Square, seemed enough to make a person spit on that fine white face.

Everyone, instead gathered around him, barely listening as he spoke of former tributes and how they died well, and how it was for a good cause. Few breathed when he said this, for they now hated him with all their hearts. Some risked the temptation to scream out at him, and scratch his beautiful face, so that it was in bloody shreds. But no one moved, they only watched him as he flicked on the slideshow. It showed each victor's winning, each battle, and each death. It lasted until voices were heard outside, the crowd had come, it was time for the reapings.

Parents and children filed in one by one, following one another, as tributes gathered at the ends of the stage, each one shared everything, their space and time. Only the soft pattering of feet was heard throughout the place, which now seemed the most grand thing in town, but seemed small and needy to their escort. He retreated backstage, to memorize his last lines in his speech, which was rested on his lap. He examined it through quickly, and went back out to speak to the crowd. They were finally all in place, except for Peacekeepers who were searching around for trouble-makers, although there were none. The mayor's family and was sliding in their chairs silently. Trying to quiet their voices depressingly. Suddenly, he cleared his throat and began to read his pitiless, selfish speech, which spoke of the Capitol and its greatness. No one bothered to listen, but only pretended to, for if they didn't, they would be punished.

After he was done with his speech, he made his way towards the basket for the girls. It was wrapped in a nice pink ribbon, the first real color most people had seen, so they watched it carefully. He then picked up a name and shouted it across the Square, as if it were a hundred acres.

"Peek Newman!"

The name echoed for a few seconds, before the girl was revealed to the crowd. It seemed as though she were floating carefully in the air, her eyes downcast on these people. Her bronze hair looked golden, as she took of her bonnet. It fell to her shoulders, something not many people saw. Her blue eyes were small, but held a powerful look. She looked like an ordinary working girl, except perhaps, with more personality. She looked around with her steady eyes. She then took small steps to the stage, refusing to look behind her, trying to ignore the tears in her friends' and siblings' eyes. She instead looked straight ahead, with a light stare that could've fooled anyone into thinking she was confident, so her heart was pounding unhappily, full of remorse and soft shuddering. As she took her place on stage, her bottom lip began to quiver, but no tears spilled over, she stared straight ahead, as if afraid to see anyone she loved crying or sobbing.

"Theo Barry" The escort had not even bothered to wait, for he was so eager.

The crowd was more silent than ever. For they knew this boy, suddenly a voice shouted.

"Who called m' name!"

No one bothered to do anything, they stared ahead refusing to pay attention to this boy. This simple-minded social outcast. He was no doubt mentally disturbed, and not right in his head.

"Meow?" he looked around him, his face scrunched up like a cat.

No one looked at him, nor bothered. Instead, they cast their eyes down, so that they could see each other. All the time, they had paid no attention to him, unless it was to laugh at his stupidity. Usually, mentally disturbed children had no place in society, but this child, thinking he was an animal, specifically a dog, was like the little pet of society. People laughed at him, and made fun of him. This poor child made his way to the stage, mewing, allowing a few laughs stifling from the crowds. But others watched in pain and their hearts panged. This one obviously had no idea he was off to the Hunger Games, to die. He looked at Peek with large eyes.

"Pretty!" he cried as he made his way towards.

He tried to give her a hug and kiss, which she almost did not fend off. Two Peacekeepers dragged him away, suddenly, Peek burst into tears, her chest rising up and down as she was led away. No one knew the reason, most suspected that she was sympathetic towards, him, which she was, in a sort of way. But this was not her reason for crying, it was because she wanted to seem weak, and helpless, and even possibly needy, so people would take pity on her. Although she wasn't sure it would work, she was positive it would help. A mentally disturbed child, and a helpless girl, what could a worse pair to send off the such an "honor"?


	16. District 11 Reapings

District 11 was next up in the reapings. Here, there were no rich people, only middle and poor. Even the middle were decreasing at the moment, they were like the rich of District 1, which were quite common, in a certain way. Here, they all lived in the same red brick houses, with white shutters on windows, and same furniture. While their houses were the same, their personalities were different. Even the poor shared the same houses, except with less quality. The pain usually melted and spilled over, creating an ugly gray wall. The garden was tossed around, rather than being neat and well-kept like the middle-class. These people had no time for these kind of things. They were good, musical people. Somewhat tragic, kept in order by Peacekeepers, who were every bit as cruel and harsh as the one from the last District.

Luckily for them, they did not have to dress formally, which was a relief. Here, unlike the other District, people were required to marry and have kids, as to add to the tributes that would be going every year.

District 11 was a wretched, ugly, wilted town, looking as though it was slime spilt from a cup. It was cold, ugly, and weary. The poor were hideous, being covered in dirt, slime, and hair. Not one of them was fat, nor jolly (unless they were singing or dancing). They were solemn and simple. They smelt of rotten dead bodies, and looked dead, their eyes peeking from under the hair of their skin. They looked more like Yetis than people. The train station was nothing grand either, it was tall and grey, with only one train going. Some peasants thought the red and white train gorgeous and wonderful, for it was the only thing not dirty, besides the woods and lakes outside the place.

These people only knew how to sing, for they gathered together on certain holidays, and rather than spending it with their family, they spent it on the streets with the vagabonds and wanderers. Some claimed that the District was their family, and they were not outcasts. Families were well-rounded parts of society. Not only did they know how to sing, but they danced and played instruments too. It was the only District in which there were any instruments at all, and almost all the poor and middle class owned them, or at least one. Nearly every child was taught to play one instrument, were it a flute, drum, or piano. There was a band which played on each reaping day. The Capitol had no music so grand, or beautiful as the songs played here. For they were played with real instruments with real emotions, unlike the Capitol music, which had no beat, nor melody. Any singer there, lip-synced to sound perfect in everything, and being the fools they were, the Capitol people fell for it. Here, no one was rich enough to do so, or even bothered to think about it. Everything was real here, and would remain the same way. When they played the anthem of Panem, it was full of emotion that only the Districts felt, heavy ugliness.

The Capitol was only a heavy burden placed upon these innocent people, a heavy and breaking, long and weary burden. It seemed here, like the suffering was unending, and would continue as long as life went. But old age, which in here was sixty, it seemed forever that a person would live so "long". Death seemed like a nice escape from such a heavy, grievious life, and the Capitol made sure it was never exactly over. Because when one died, their family was tormented with the death, until some of them gave in, and the entire family followed with all the torture. It was sad, it was humiliating, but the District had rebelled with open arms, and hard glances, so they were last in quality, next to District 12.

There was one train station, covered in red and white ribbons for the reapings. Black was unacceptable here, for it symbolized sadness, and no way did the Capitol look upon the reapings in sadness. So anyone who wore black, was executed. Here, the Head Peacekeeper was full of it. His eyes always flared with violence and cruelty, his face always reflected with complete anger. His life had been long and hard, his hair was graying, but it was not the symbol of knowledge or peace, for he had known neither. He was cruel, harsh, disgusting, bloody, and violent. He went out of his way to execute those, whom he pictured were causing trouble, when in reality they were helping others. He killed men, women and children, all without thinking. None of his fellow Peacekeepers dared to speak to him about this violence, and while they believed in keeping things in order too, they believed that this would start an uprising. But the Head Peacekeeper would angrily reply that any people who rebelled, would have their legs and arms cut off slowly before their head, which would be thrown to the wolves. They would have Capitol mutts eat away their flesh.

The Capitol admired these Peacekeepers and their "marvelous" way of work. They seemed like the best people to them, and they enjoyed watching executions. There were a few victors from this place, about seven. They were all happy and rich, despite the poverty around them. Two had almost gone mad, and the rest were trying to enjoy life, and kept out of trouble's way, which was hard in this District. It was because of the heavy punishment that the population was low. But children were born every day, and mothers kept at the hospital for a few hours, before being thrown out, by force if she could not move and did not have anyone to help her. An average family had five children, large ones contained almost ten. The reason for this was because the Peacekeepers demanded that everyone should marry young, and have children. Some children were unloved by their parents, only brought on by force. There were many orphans, who roamed the streets day and night crying for their parents. It was painful, but there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Today, people were dressed in all kinds of colors, depending on the best clothes they had. The reaping day was the only bathing day for some. The large factory, at the middle, was busy with work, for people worked for extra money, at their own risk of their children getting easily picked. For it was like the tessarae, parents could gain more money by working on reaping day, but for each hour, they had to enter their childrens' names once more. So most parents were fidgety about getting their children chosen, others were fine with it. Some had such large families, having one less child to care for, meant the best of times. But there were more that cared for their children, and were horribly nervous. Children were already gathered in the Square, watching the monthly show of the Symphany Orchestra. It was traditional to do so before the reapings.

Some tributes were at home, while others were at the reapings, and the rest scattered all over the place. They all wore different things, it was a light sunny day, with a very chilly breeze, which would five anyone a slight sore throat, which were common around, especially to the over-populating poor. Children were on the street, starving, begging for food, which was risky in case he should be caught doing so. A few children were executed painfully because of it, at the hands of the bloody Peacekeeper. Any who watched, found it hard not to cry. If they did cry, they would be execute side by side with the child.

Even urchins had to find a way to dress right, some stole broken cloth from stores, and tried to position it on themselves, so that it would look completel. None were without success, since most were used to it. Children of poor families bathed in tubs, which were already dirty from their older siblings and fathers and mothers. So, this was not a good bath, nor did it benefit them in any way. But it was decent, and kept the Peacekeepers away from them. So they bathed, dressed and headed over to the Square, where the reapings were scheduled to take place in an hour. The musty, broken bread of the District, was being sold in street wagons outside the grand building. It was wonderful, tall, and the only good-looking place of District 11. The young escort stepped out of her car, and made her way towards it, disappearing inside. People did not wave, nor did they bother to. They had seen the young escort for two years, when the old one moved down to District 12 when the District 12 boy was executed. It was not a tough move for this young escort, for while this town was dirty and ugly, the other was desolate and lonely. She wore a long jacket, up to her knees, and white tights. Her brown hair was tucked into it, for she wanted to surprise the people with her new hairstyle, and did not want to spoil such a fun surprise.

It was time, while people entered, the band played a fairly sad tune, soft and low. It was not melancholy, completely it, it had parts where it rose triumphantly, and then dropped swiftly. People shuffled in. There were absolutely no seats, and they were tucked together in this quiet place. If the music had not been playing, a pen dropped would've echoed throughtout the place. After a few minutes and when everyone had settled in, the fanfare stopped and the escort entered on.

"Hi" she smiled as she waved and removed the net that had concealed her hair.

It flung up in a mixture of ribbons and dye. Half of it was blue, the other brown. It was held up by the prettiest pink and blue ribbons, with a mixture of gold somewhere in between. She dropped her coat onto the floor, revealing a slingly gold dress, which shimmered with musical notes in the sun. She looked like the sun itself, radiant, beautiful, and somewhat hard to look at. People clapped, for this was true beauty, not just simple other Capitol things.

"Right! Thank you! Now, let's go to these reapings!" she smiled and swayed her hips gently as she walked.

She then bent over, in a lady-like fancy style, and snapped back up, a name folded in the palm of her small, soft hand.

"Let's give it up for! The young lady to be reaped for this year's great Hunger Games! Alicia Borwin!" she announced, raising her arms in happiness.

The fanfare of Panem echoed throughout the place, showered by the cheers and claps of the Square. The girl called up was very lean and tall, with shoulder-length black hair, and bright green eyes that would've taken the truth from anyone, by just one stare. She rose, her lips completely white, and her face exactly like it. She was middle class, and perhaps among the wealthiest of the middle class. She was well-dressed in a red dress. She then picked up the skirt, and made her way towards the stage, her hands in fists, cluthching desperately onto her dress. Her face was almost emotionless, but it was obvious that she was scared out of her mind. Her eyes were a bit wide, her mouth set in a pouty position, her eyes set gently on the beautiful dress of her escort. She secretly admired it and wished it was her own, but she thought so for a minute, as she remembered she was here to die.

She then slowly made her way to the spot next to the escort, her eyes set on her unsteadily. She began to quiver, but it hardly showed through her pretty dress. As she took her place next to the escort, she felt a whisper in her hear.

"What a pretty dress! Are you excited?" it was no doubt the escort.

Alicia turned, tears forming in her green eyes and nodded. The escort smiled and hugged her gently before going over the boy's pile. It was large and quite unkept, perhaps there were some names that should've been taken out long ago. She then picked up one in the same manner and read it aloud.

"And for the gentlemen! Ooh this is a good one! Anthony Anwhistle!" clapping errupted throughout the crowd.

Again the fanfare played, this time less dreamy and beautiful, but more lively and actionate. The boy took a step forward, but looked as though he was going to fall, his eyes stared off into space, indicating that he was clearly dazed and shocked. His jeans rubbed against the floor, in rythym to the cries of two girls behind him. He did not turn around, his eyes instead rested on the stage, where Alicia and the escort stood. Seeing this confusion, she repeated her lines.

"And let's give a round of applause for Mister Anthony Anwhistle!" she then held out her arm in the direction of the boy. At first there were few claps heard, but they increased as they came by. And then everyone was clapping, as he made his way onto the stage. The girls' sobbing was still heard.

The three took a bow, the boy looked less dazed and more sad. He tried to concentrate on staying awake, than hearing the cries of his sister and friend. Then they turned around, and headed backstage. The escort pulled both of them near her in comfort as they looked down. A tear rolled down Alicia's cheek, and Anthony's eyes became pained. Suddenly the young escort spoke up.

"Don't look so down! You never know what's going to happen. Maybe this year, District 11 is going to have a winner!" she tried to sound optimistic, but Anthony only lifted his said to say one thing.

"I'm called Jay" he whispered softly, and this small phrase seemed to blow with the wind, throughout the entire District, until it died down.


	17. District 12 Reapings

And finally , we make it to the final and last District, since District 13 had fallen. District 12. It was like District 11, except gloomier and with no happiness available. The middle class here, was quite rare, and poor were almost everywhere to be seen. It was merely impossible to pass a street without seeing a cripple, or an urchin. One with a deformed stomach, or head, or mouth. Their faces smothered in gravel from the mines. Almost everyone worked in dirty, small, disgusting, filthy mines, which were not to be messed with. But yet, these people worked in these horrific conditions, for poor pay and in long hours, which usually resulted in health problems and early, uneeded death. But since the conditions were so poor, it was work for adults, children workers worked in other fields, if there were any. Although it was the poorest of places, children did not work, they learned and took care of the household.

The children were usually unhappy creatures, being brought up in what seemed like a graveyard, with bodies melting in the hot sun under their little bare feet, since they were not rich enough to be buried. No dresses were worn, a multi-colored bracelet seemed very beautiful, and of course it was hard to look at something shiny without going blind at the thought of it even being so bright. It was hard of course, but bearable, for it seemed there was nothing these people couldn't stand, except for punishment.

In this region, only a few Peacekeepers roamed about, since these people were so busy keeping crumbs on the table, they had no time to be any trouble at all. The reaping day was a groan to anyone around there, and it seemed unfair and unjust. But they did not complain, nor did they rebel in any sort of way, they had no idea what went on outside their little dirty town, but they knew what the Capitol was, and what they did. So they did not bother to do anything. Here, there was a small gathering in the meadow, or the only beautiful place in District 12. It was well-kept, for the people needed something pretty to look at once in a while. They all looked misplaced, standing in the middle of something so pretty and delicious enough to eat. Nothing poisonous grew here, to the happiness of the people, except for nightlock, which were kept at the back of the meadow, halfway into the meadow, halfway into the forrest. But everyone knew from birth not to touch them, and only three had died from it's poison in all history of Panem. They were not buried either, since they were all urchins, and orphans, and had no one to care for them.

This crowd was a normal everyday crowd, except they mostly wore clean cloth on their backs, a light breeze filled the land, however not enough to harm anyone, so it was calm and the sky was clear. The birds were singing, but softly, and meadow was blooming, but plainly. It was almost like any day, except for the screams of terrified children which seemed to fill the land with terror and unhappiness. No one dared to be busy, they were all at home, preparing, or in the meadow, meditating, something they hardly got to do all year long. The Square looked nicely decorated with nice stone, but very plain as well. Fistick Trinket, the young man of the escort was standing in the meadow, with the people, his hat off, wishing it would all be over soon, as so he could go back to his loving wife, three beautiful daughters, and two bouncing sons. He held a picture of them before him, he had been in District 12 for the past few months, helping them prepare for the reaping day, since it was a large job to decorate the Square, and it wasn't easy. Being a Capitol person, he gladly sat under a fanned tent, and told the workers what to do. But he still wasn't satisfied with anything, for he hated his job and only wished himself home. His children, no doubt, were already sending letters to him, begging him to come home. _Just two more days _he thought sadly. He held his picture in front of him and examined it. It was very clean,and pretty, so were his five children. He picked up a few poems out of his pocket, and read them. They were all from his children, who were still too young to do much. He then thought about his wife, who always worried when he went to District 12, wishing him good travels and begging that the "beggars" would not harm him. He then put it away which hurt him, but he had to in order to look over his speech about the Capitol which he did. People gathered outside the Square, in their clean reaping clothes, looking almsot normal. The meadow was beginning to clear as well. More people left, and at different times, to release the happiness of beauty, and enter the real world.

It was no doubt time, the line outside the Square was fair, but most of the people had it early, and were inside, while most waited outside. It was quiet, and gloomy, and although the sun was shining, it might as well be pouring, so the people would be satisfied. But it did not rain, therefore the people were devestated. Any tributes from District 12, were as good as sacrificed, for there was only one victor from this ugly place, and she was nearly mad, perhaps even mad. She always had a faraway look, and never bothered in any conversations, she stared out in the blank, her eyes rested on nothing. She was not married, she did not have children, for having children only brought the risk of bringing them up to be reaped and die. Here, there was not much to be trained in, the only skills people were trained in, were mostly what was what, as in terms of the Capitol, and how to Hunger Games went. They were not taught anything for work, unless they had parents who taught them themeselves, but most parents did not have the time.

The little children were at the back of the line, they wore the cleanest clothes, which were either too short for girls, or too tight for boys, they looked as fake Capitol people, with sad faces and gloomy expressions. Not many were so pretty, the grievious childhood recieved in District 12 had ruined their looks as their personalities. They were sullen, weak and sad, with tight eyes, and miserable hearts. Their hearts, so to speak, barely pumped, so they were almost motionless, for the pain of being hungry and poor took them over. Their hair was neither beautiful, nor lustrous, it likely would've been, but it was not. Some were pretty, if they did not work so much and did not starve. However, childhood was the best, not the prettiest time in their lives. They were clean, free, and youthful, but they starved, and they learned as well, but it was nothing compared to teenagers and adults.

Some teenagers were beautiful, it depended on their childhood and parentage. Some were pretty, with rosy cheeks, and nice teeth. Others, were normal, and others ugly. They were mostly gangly, skinny, and hairy with grey eyes and brown hair, there were a handful of blondes, less with black hair, and perhaps two redheads. Any other hair colors belonged to no one, for anything beyond these, turned into one of them through all the hard work. Some of their hair was already greying, but only the ones who truly worked. It was an option to work when you were a teenager, however no teenagers worked in mines, such as adults did, for while being poor, they still struggled to remain somewhat youthful. They hummed, had romances, played games, and sometimes, held little "parties". On the reaping, they all seemed to age overnight, for they looked as middle-aged adults, who looked like elders. Their expressions were sullen, their eyes heavy, their hair covered, and their clothes long and droopy. None of them made pretty pictures.

The adults were first up in line. It was rare, with all the conditions and poverty, that someone would live to eighty, most died off somewhere in their sixties or seventies. It depended on their funds, or work. Doctors usually lived past their eighties, but there were only two doctors, who helped their family. A male doctor, and a female doctor, both who lived in medium sized houses. They looked old, most of the workers, some had missing teeth, hair cut short, or far underweighted bodies. They did not laugh, they did not talk, for most of them were parents, and they nearly gave themselves a heart attack, that even thinking that their child would be reaped. The line shuffled in slowly, as one by one made it in. Here, they were classified by age, so they got into their groups, just in time for the reaping.

"Welcome District 12!" announced the mayor, looking down onto the audience.

A loud greeting came from the crowd, the mayor looked up at his wife and son up in their podium, he was young and healthy, with wide eyes and a small mouth. His hair was blonde and he had the look of a hardworker. He was the son of the former mayor, who had died a year ago from tuberculosis. He then coughed into his sleeve and looked up.

"Today, we celebrate the 34th annul Hunger Games, and the strength and greatness of our head Capitol" he paused for a moment as a screen came down, and a large picture showed the advertisement for the Hunger Games " As most of you know, 34 years ago, the Districts rebelled against our gracious Capitol, and it failed, District 13 was destroyed and the rest, as a reminder to our weakness, must participate each year in the Hunger Games, the fight to death on live TV. It is for glory and honor that we follow, and we must continue in our ways. Let us give our best honor, to our victors throughtout the past year"

As he finished, a slide show, showing the victors, and all their killing came up, it played rough music, with heavy drums and simple chords on the piano. It brought tears to some, and some cheered and clapped at the end, it was a mixture. The Mayor cleared his throat.

"And now! Let us welcome, our escort, Fistick Trinket!"

Mr. Trinket made his way across the stage, his hair bouncing after him, he flashed a white smile to the crowd, who gracefully returned it. He then waved down the cheers and claps and the drew the ladies' hat to him.

"Welcome citizens of District 12! It's a pleasure to be back here, in this wonderful place, and I'm sure all of you are as excited as I am! Now let's give a hand for our lovely victor up there!" the entire place turned into claps, but not cheers.

"Now!" he grunted, obviously wanting to get this over "Let's move to the ladies!"

He dug through it, with his eyes closed, the people were on their toes, trinkling with anxiety and fear. Then he read it aloud, and most hearts were loosened.

"Madison Reeve!" he roared with excitement.

A spotlight was held on where she stood, the girl quivered, with a shocked look on her face. Her lips were pressed white. An applause was held throughout the crowd, but she did not move, until a boy shoved her over, then they all burst into laughter. Tears filled her eyes, as she sunk towards the stage. Suddenly a hand reached up behind her and rested on her shoulder. A young girl, about the same age was behind her. She was certainly anything but pretty, she was frail with normal brown hair, and appeared to be very tall. She was pale, and looked a phantom instead of a sixteen year old girl. The two girls held a look, and finally she called out.

"I volunteer!"

The place grew silent and not a sound stirred. Mr. Trinket looked down at her.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes" she replied hastily.

"Up you go then" he commanded.

The girl slowly lifted the skirt of her black dress, even though it was already at her knees, she looked even more pale as she made her way up, but her friend looked plain stunned. Suddenly she cried.

"Don't!"

The other girl turned around.

"Don't worry" and turned back around, not paying attention to the rest of the world, but relaxing her eyes ahead, on the stage, when she reached the stage, Mr. Trinket shook hands with her.

"What is your name?"

"Bethany Alfssen" she replied softly.

"Welcome to the Hunger Games Bethany" he told her.

She nodded and took her place behind him. The crowd cheered happily, and Mr. Trinket, desperate to start his way home, picked a name of the boys'.

"Gary Sue!" he called out.

Everyone stared amongst themselves for awhile before the boy appeared up, looking somewhat shocked, he fell quickly through the crowd, his face frozen like ice, his lips closed and pardoned. He did not look at anyone, and like Bethany, ignored all stares and whispers, instead he focused ahead. He remembered the very day his sister was reaped, the same expression on her face, a tear fell down her cheek. And when he had tried to visit her, she had sent him away, and the last words he had ever said to her was "I hate you". It haunted him now. His name fit him well, for he had been the best in everything, joking, smiling, and friendly of course, he had so many friends, it was tough to comprehend now. But all that spirit left him when she was reaped, and when she died. It was now to come back to him in the Hunger Games, these Hunger Games. The clapping finished the last two tributes were lead off, next up to happen, would be the Capitol, then the Horror Games.


	18. The Chariots Part 1

**Aurora's POV:**

The first thing I feel when I wake up, is strangely, comfort. Probably it's one of the first times I've slept in a real bed that was actually comfortable. Usually, for toughness, my grandmother made me sleep on a couch, with my regular clothes on, and that was back home. Now, I'm in the Capitol, where I am probably going to die, and I'm comfortable in a white cotton nightgown, and in a warm bed, with tons of fluffy pillows and warm covers. I wrap my arms around my body, and grimace when I feel it's skinny shape. They tried to feed me so much in the last few days, I suspected most of it was poison. So that just goes to say, that I haven't really eaten much. I don't care, who would notice? Besides, as long as I'm still alive, that's good, right?

This is Chariot Day, and to be honest, I have no idea until a large a banner flies into my open window. I curse angrily, as it almost hits my face. That's it! I'm sick and tired of these stupid Capitol people! All they live for is to torment me. But I know the open window is a stupid prank that the Head Bitch played on me when I was sleeping. On the second night, they had to cut some of my hair, cause most it was dipped in syrup! And of course I couldn't tell them, because then I would be in trouble. I try to clear the stupid Daisy head from my mind, but I can't. So instead, I swipe away my covers, and place my feet gently on the floor. My nightgown, being much too big, even for me, droops below my breasts. I don't care, if the Daisy wants me to sleep like that, that's her problem. I then go up to the window, and take hold of the flying curtains. I then look down at the giggling Capitol people and shout.

"Why don't you take your stupid banner and shove it up your ass!" I yell down before shutting the windows.

I hear muttering below and I know the Capitol hates rudeness, at least pointed at them. I don't care. They probably don't even recognize my window, so what'll they do to me? I go to the bathroom, where I can hopefully wash the sleepiness from my eyes. It's not sleepiness, it's just that I looked at the sun directly, when I was still used to the dark, I think. As I make my way in, I rub my painful eyes, hoping they'll feel better. When they don't, I curse and look in the mirror. I look awful, I'm pale and overly skinny, and my freckles are really showy. Then I stop as I remember I don't have freckles. I examine my face closer, and I realize that it's fake. Or at least I think it is. Oh that stupid bitch! She's really getting it! I'll make sure to do plenty to her today! Getting my chances of living down. I feel anger rise up in me, and I know it won't go down, so I kick the towel on my bathroom floor and cuss all the bad words I know, which is pretty much a lot. I then trip on it and fall on the ground. Stunned for a second, I loose my anger. But it rises in me again soon enough, and I punch the shower. I'm such a klutz sometimes. I bet in the Hunger Games, I'll trip and die. I laugh unnaturally at this, and then repeat the thought, and laugh again. I then move towards my sink and try to wash off the freckles. No luck. So I don't care! They can put make up on me anyway. Seeing the clock on the wall, which says nine, I realize that I'm late for breakfast. I shrug and slip off my nightgown, which is easy as cake.

I walk back into my room, which is thankfully dark, so my eyes feel nicer. I then make my way to my drawer, and pick out a red shirt, and long sweat pants with a blue hem. I then comb my hair with my fingers so it looks decent. I don't look pretty, but I thankfully don't look ugly. I then leave for the door, but before I do, I pull on the little ring my grandmother gave me, hoping it will give me some luck. I examine it over, it's beautiful charm, even though being poor, my father could still afford it, so I heard. I'm so into examining it, that I miss the last step and trip on it. I fall to my knees and curse again. I am really clumbsy. I get to my feet and think violent thoughts when I see the Head Daisy laughing. I don't give. She's gotten me good today, however, her hair is orange, and her skin is yellow. So I call her Cacti Flower.

"Oh thy worthy Cacti Flower, go back to your little bitch den" I tell her, trying to supress a laugh as she scowls at me.

"You know you're already on the hook!" she growls, and points out her three scars, curtesy of me" At least Nate is actually cute!"

I bite my tongue in order to not scream at her that Nate hates her as well. After the visit with the Snake, our president, I've decided to try and get to know Nate. He's a pretty cool kid. I think I like him. He knows about Henry and Grandma, and I know about Amanda, Isabella, and Duncan, his three true loved ones. I feel sorry for him. It isn't fair that someone like him has to die for the entertainment of the Capitol, and if I could die, and save one tribute of my choice, I would definetly die so that he could go back home. I know by the Cactus' looks, that he's off in breakfast, so I don't cease to follow. I go down two more flights of stairs, rather than taking the elevator with the devil. I am pleased when I see my breakfast is kindly waiting for me, along with my prep team, Geonie, Regona, and Loklo. They are giggling and talking together. I can't stand any of them. They're such little prats! But they giggle and greet me anyway, laughing at my new freckles. I eat in silence and grimance as my stylist, Cynial Bresta walks in. She's very tall, and pretty with striking red hair, and golden tatoos. We certainly don't like each other, I'm too loud and rude for her, and she's too bossy for me, but we don't hate each other. She nods as she searches through her stylist book, looking for a good outfit for me. In curiousity, I ask.

"What I am going to be wearing?" she suddenly notices me, and looks surprised.

"Oh! I don't know yet. Just eat your breakfast. You don't want to look too skinny" she frowns when she says this, probably because she looks at my body half the time.

I scowl and return to my breakfast, not even bothering to look up as a sweaty Nate enters in. He wear nothing but a pollo shirt, and short basketball shorts. His hair is flatten by work, and his bows and arrows are tucked into this backpack. His stylist and our mentor, Abbey Holliday enter the room. I like Abbey a lot. She's just a pleasing person, she's very nice and sweet. You would never imagine her to be a winner of the Games. I have a feeling she likes me too, because she smiles at me a lot. I'm so happy she's my mentor. Probably the main reason she isn't sour, is because she hides a lot. Although, she's SUPER nice, she never says much about herself, or if she's even married. I doubt it, she won the 14th Hunger Games, when she was thirteen. So that makes her thirty-three. She sits down with Nate at her side. Suddenly Cynial scowls.

"God dammit! Get my sister Persallyon and tell her that the game is up!" she slams her stylist book down on the table, almost spilling her coffee.

"What's the matter" Abbey asks smoothly, placing her face in between her palms.

"My sister is such a bitch! She's married, and she still doesn't know how to behave" Cynial groaned angrily.

"What did she do?" asks Nate.

"She stole my designer book, again! For her stupid workshop. I swear to God-"

Suddenly, a lady looking exactly like her entered. Well, at least their faces were identical, but this girl was nuts. She had pink hair. Pink hair! That was stuck up and her eyes were near craziness. She wore nothing, except a thong and two things covering her over larged breats. I felt like throwing up, so I ducked under a table.

"Ye gods! Your so mad for nothing!" the girl dumps the book on the table and leaves.

Cynial sighs and beckons to me.

"Come, I have your outfit. We need to.. improve your face a bit first"

I don't need to be told twice, I get up quickly and follow her my stylists. Nate grins at me before he leaves, and I shrug back, which in our language means that I am going to kill him, in a friendly way, I hope.

They lead me into the "studio" where I am seated at a large table, made out of mirror.

"It's more good measure" explains Cynial as she wraps a large tarp around me "Especially since it's from your District"

I nod and stare straight ahead. She lays a book in front of me and points to a pretty picture. It's of a girl, standing straight up, with her head pointed out. Her hair is short and spiky. Cynial explains to me, that they will have to cut off my hair, and put on a lot of makeup. I can tell, because the girl's face is gold, and her dress, is a shimmering god-like dress, which comes to the knees, with bare feet. She tells me that it's sexy to wear something like that. I barely listen and stare ahead, at myself. And soon enough, they're working on my hair. I stare straight ahead for what feels like hours and wonder what Nate is doing. Maybe he's sitting down, waiting to be painted, like me. Usually tributes from the same District match each other. Suddenly, I feel tools all over my face, and I try to stay still as they put on make up, but they're at it for hours, so it seems. Then, I'm laid back until my head is inside a tub. I feel it being washed, and my face being blown on, by a machine I hope. It feels good, and I especially like the rythmytic rubbing of my hair. For awhile, I relax, until I feel myself being pushed upwards. I am then told to open my eyes.

When I do, I am completely dazzled. My hair is completely red, more than auburn, but completely red. It looks amazing. I stand up and turn around, it's very short too, about up to my chin, but it's all held back in a clump. It's even looks kind of cool, messy. My face is white and gold, at the same time! It's amazing how the Capitol can make you feel like a ditz and a queen at the same time. It feels great to be me, for a first time. But before I know it, I'm lead into a large room, by my prep team, and the door is closed.

"It's time for the outfit" she tells me "It's very complicated, we're going to have to help you put in on"

I try to comprehend this. Does she mean she's going to see me naked? I shudder at the thought. But of course, lots of stylists see their tributes naked...

So, I am stripped of my clothing, and I almost slap my prep team for looking at my breats and muttering. Of what concern is that? By luckily Cynial, takes down a gold outfit, and in thirty minutes, as one hour has passed, I'm dressed in the most impressive outfit I have ever seen. My hat is like a bonnet, except golden and silver, my dress is a shimmering gold, and my boots come up to my knees. My hair kept back by the bonnet. When I am done, Abbey comes in to examine me. She laughs as she tells me about her disatrous outfit. And with the way she describes it, it's hard not to visually see what she looks like in it. And before I know it, it's noon, and I'm rushed off the the place where it will be held in a carriage, for any last minute training. Nate appears next to me, looking almost just as dazzling as I do. He smiles weakly.

"I wonder how Isabella will feel looking at me?" he asks me, for some reason, he thinks because I'm a girl, I'll see out of Isabella's eyes, but I don't have to heart to tell him that.

"She'll think you're a male Barbie doll" I tell him and smile as he laughs.

"I hope not" the rest of our conversation goes onto our families. We ignore the screaming fans of the Capitol, obviously, they haven't recognized me...

**Metal's POV:**

All right, so I'm here at the Capitol. I can't get over the fact however, that I look like a freaking crackhorn! I wear a body suit of metal, a joke matching my name. Of course they would. My hair is scooped out of my eyes, to supposedly allow me to "see" better. Why do I need to see? All I have to do is smile at the crowd and look happy! I groan as I lean back against the wall. It's hard enough to face the fact that I'm probably going to die, but now I have to act like a freaking prat! My mentor is next to me, growling. Her name is Adelaide Bouvier and even with the many tribute who won after her, they want her to be mentor, since she won the very first Hunger Games. Speaking of retarded. I lean back casually as I hear more cussing from her. I smile wildly, hoping to creep her out into going away, but it doesn't work, so I sigh heavily. She doesn't say a word to me ever, or to Justin, but who would want to talk to such a fucking retard?

It's going to be awhile before the actual ceremony starts, and this year, they're going to take it throughtout the ENTIRE Capitol. Imainge how long that'll take! I hate this! I hate the Capitol! I hate the Peacekeepers! Oh I hate everyone here! I know it's not true, but I feel it when I say it. I suddenly pick up a metal rose off my hair and clunk it at a guard, and laugh out loud when it hits him in the back of the head. When he turns around, all he sees is a bunch of kids and adults the same, laughing, not giving up who actually did it. That's good. I don't need a bunch of losers on my track. I try to picture my brothers beside me, hoping that it'll actually come true. I sigh when it doesn't, but I honestly don't care. I hum a song from our District, called Honor and Glory. It's all about the Hunger Games, making fun of it. It's fun to sing, especially when your drunk, not a good experience. I've tried drinking once, but just a little. Still, it was enough to make me go berserk. I don't feel like thinking about the rest of it, because the rest deals with Peacekeepers and my dad. I wonder what he would do if my brothers were in it! For me, he shrugged it off. He doesn't really care about me as much as he does my brothers. I shouldn't mind. My mother, no doubt would care. Sometimes I think about her, but not often, I like to shrug off many things, and my mother is one of them

I remember Rayo's face at our last meeting. We meet in the Justice Building with my other best friend Abby. I wish I could've told him that I love him, but I couldn't, not with Abby standing there, cause she's crazy about him to. I have a good relationship with her, despite our fighting for Rayo. She doesn't like my craziness, I don't like her modesty. But other than that, we get along quite well. We talk quietly, we smile together. Now she'll have Rayo. I shouldn't care, I know I shouldn't, but I do anyway. I guess that's just a thing about being a girl, you don't want to care, but you do.

I look down at Abelaide, and she looks off into the distance. There's tons I want to ask her, but I don't dare. The only thing I know, is that's she's OLD. And they think that she might die of depression, since she's so old with no children or lover or friends. But that's all. I see Justin lurking off in the background, pretending like he's some sort of ninja. Or at least I THINK that's what he's doing. God knows what does on inside his head. I hope I never get to know...

I hop down from the chariot, hoping to find something entertaining. But I only a final chariot arriving, belonging to the tributes of District 1. They look amazing in their golden outfits, it makes me jealous. I look like a statue, or a tin man. I make my way towards the snack table, and find it's completely full of desert and and foods. It's amazing what they have here. They can take a food, as simple as an apple, and turn in into something amazing. That's all I'm giving them credit for though, otherwise, I can't stand the assholes. My stylist, Porbatist, is talking to his girlfriend, whose name I don't know. As I'm concentrating on them, I reach for an apple, about the same time someone else does. As we try to pull it to each other, the apple falls. It's not just a normal apple. There's caramel and cream inside, and it actually tastes real! As we both bend down to pick it up, I catch a glimpse of her face, and I know it's the girl from District 4, Dina, or Diana, or something like that. Maybe Dana.

She grabs a hold of it and hands it to me.

"Here, I don't need it"

That's when I suddenly realize that was the last one. I look at her, suspiciously.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Go ahead" she holds out the apple for me to take.

I hesitate for a second before I reach for it. To my surprise, she doesn't take it away, and I take the apple into my hand, confused.

"You're Metal, right?" she begins to walk away, but turns around to acknowledge me.

"Um, yeah" I answer, reaching up to smoothen my hair.

"I'm Drina" she tells me, and offers her hand/

I then realize it. She's trying to make me like her, so it's hard to kill her. I wonder why I haven't thought of that before? I smile prettily and shake hands.

"Good luck"

She then smiles sweetly, and walks away. I sigh and bite into my apple. Even though it was dropped, it's still tasty. I wondered why I wasn't so shy with this girl? Probably because I was so worried about her trying to trick me, I didn't have time to be shy. It's not such a bad flaw in the Hunger Games, being shy, unless you're talking interviews, then it's pretty bad. But I figure I'll pretend Flickerman, the dude who always does the interviews, is Rayo of Abby, then I'll be good. I sit down on the floor, my back against the wall. I eat the apple slowly, but I can tell, I'm not following my manners. I try to eat more carefully, but I don't care, cause it's so GOOD. Whenever I'm not eating it, my mouth is watering for more, I wish they would bring more apples, but they don't. So to keep my mind off missing my apple, I try to watch others. I first, watch the two tributes from District 1 chat. They almost look like friends. I would definetly feel awkward, talking to Justin, considering he's flirting DIRTILY with girls right now.

They appear to be pretty close, maybe too close for two tributes, since only one can live. But, it's still nice to have someone to be with, so your not stuck around a bunch of losers like I am. I then took my eyes off them, my obsession to the apple taste is ALMOST gone. Not quite. So I begin to sing Honor and Glory. I feel myself getting into grove. I'm the first person in the District, to have actually sang the entire song by memory, probably cause before I go to bed, I hide under the sheets and try to memorize it. It's fun, and I move to it, a lot. I notice lots of people are staring as I dance on the floor to it. Let them. Why should I care what they think. I then grab up a cookie, because even my music can't beat! I bite into it like a monster. I can see Drina laughing at a distance. Let her do that! She won't be laughing when I'm killing her! I then laugh. The idea of me killing her is abominable. I would never say that out loud, it would sound to wierd. I am terrible with big words, which is why I usually speak with small words. I don't know, probably cause I'm used to smaller words.

I notice some people have stopped to watch me. They look pleased at singing and dancing. Maybe I'll do that for my interview. I'm a good singer, I know that because I began singing in front of a crowd in the Square, before the reapings. Abby and Rayo almost died! I could've died too. From laughing! Suddenly, Adelaide shoots me a look, which no doubt means stop. I do, only because, I know it's about time. So? Why do I have too? Besides, they'll laugh at my ugly outfit, since I look like a robot chicken. I look up at the clock, about ten minutes to show time. I feel my mouth turn dry, except I don't know whether it's because Justin is going to sit next to me, or because I'm going to face the Capitol. To be honest, both sound equally bad. Sitting next to a boy who thinks he's sexy and cool, or facing a bunch of unpleasable brats. I hope I'm a pleasing person...

I catch eyes with Audrina as I mount into my chariot. Everyone forgot my performance and continued with their work. I sing my song under my breath.

_Oh Ga-a-a-ames!_

_Oh the darlings! _

_Where kiddie kills kiddie, with gun, knife, or fooooork!_

_Oh honor and glory!_

_From killing and gorey!_

_Oh life, taken one by one!_

_Life is useless, or they think so at least._

_For the dude who wrote this song, was hanged four times!_

_Ohhhhhh yess!_

_Ohhhhh yess!_

_Liiiiiiiiffffee is nothing!_

_For the pink and blue heads!_

_Oh liiiiffffeeee!_

I was then very rudely interrupted by Adelaide who was looking a little more than aggravated at my mocking skills.

"It all comes naturally!" I sang, leaning backwards, and laughing when I hit my head.

Adelaide looks at me with a depressed look, like she wishes she could be me now. Why? I might die in a few days! And what's more? I'm don't even know if it'll be quick. Maybe I'll be a bloodbath. I've seen it before. Tons of kids die in the bloodbath. But not so much District 2. In fact, most of the victors are from District 2. It's also the quarters of Peacekeepers. I hate Peacekeepers. They're so stupid! I don't know why people are scared of them! All they do are stand around and act tough! They slapped a boy for holding a little butterfly knife in his hand, and he was trying to cut bread! I wiped the blood off his face, so you can already guess how hard they hit him. I shudder. I've never been punished before. I've seen it, it's painful. I've always managed to escape before they could find me. But that only gave me time to chuck a few rocks, before they found out where it was coming from and would come after me. I think they suspect me..., but I'm not sure. No one can be.

I lean back and feel anxiety creep into my stomach, and before I know it, Tulio's in the chariot with me.

"Hey bitch!" he greets me, as if I were some sort of ugly raggy person.

Luckily for me, he's worse-looking in his outfit, his hair being tucked back. But he's luckier in terms of people who support him, cause my stylist likes my breats, and always check them out, and my prep team in even more perverted...

I am interrupted by a long, sharp ringing of a bell. All of us tributes, bend down, since it rings in our ears. A few tributes stumble crazily fast towards their chariots, as if they're going to rescue them from hot lava. Then I hear an announced say.

"Capitol of Panem! I welcome you, the tributes of the 34th annul Hunger Games!"

And before we are rushed off into daylight, I feel Adelaide's lips near my ear.

"And remember sweetheart, smile. The Capitol loves a smile like yours" and I catch her smile, before I'm forced to stare forward, as it seems my next big step in life is taken.

**Lavender's POV:**

And before I know it, I'm off in daylight. It's very bright, brighter than it could've been in my bedroom. I reach my hand up fan my eyes from the heat, but I notice the Capitol's people at my side, and I know better than to do that. My first thought about the Capitol, is nothing but hate. They've chosen me, they've condemned me, and I'm going to die because of them. It seems ugly to me, all these people are ugly and stupid, and I can help it if I think so. But I know, if I want to survive, I'm going to have to make an effort. My thoughts drift off to my home. I almost think it's prettier than the Capitol. The Capitol just looks so big, and fake, with girls with plastic breasts and the boys with... well I'd rather not say. But it's all just fake, they're all nicely thin, yet they eat like pigs. They're all colored and pampered, yet they're cold as ice and stupid as anything out there. I hate them, and there's nothing to change my mind about that.

I catch Beau's eye again, and I suddenly smile, I feel it's not fake. I try to think of Asher, and his looks when I told him I loved him. I had a crush on him for as long as I can remember, and if I win, I can make it home to him. But I can't win... I sigh. It's so hard. But then again, if I wasn't reaped for the Hunger Games, I would've never had the strength nor bravery to tell him. He looked stunned at first, and I was definetly afraid that I made a mistake. But then, he kissed my cheek and flattened my hair, a full kiss would've probably been too much. I wonder if the other kids have romances too. They probably do. It's very tragic, that people should have to suffer like this, and then loose the one they love. I nearly die every time I think that I may never see Asher again. My mom can't see this. She says that love always fails you. Maybe it's because her two attempts at love failed. I miss my mother. I wish I had gotten a longer good-bye. Cause all she could do the entire time, was cry and tell me how much she loved me. I was too sad to say anything, and shocked.

I look down at my yellow dress, and spread it out on my seat, so as to not crumple it. I know the Capitol likes nice manners towards them, and smiles and laughs. I hate them, but if I'm going to win the Hunger Games, which is probably not going to happen, I'll need sponsors. I suddenly wonder if I'm ever going to be remembered. Probably only the victors are remembered. Yes, they are. I don't remember a single person besides the winner from District 8 last year. I close my eyes, and I think of Hamlet Yankovich, my mentor. He really is wierd. He zones out a lot, and he really isn't much help to me. Not that I've been doing much the two past days, but I've been doing enough to know, that he's just not in my class of people. He's quiet, zoneish, and very pale. He looks he's drunk half the time, but in truth he's very sober. I wonder what he feels in the inside. I don't know why I wonder about that. I shouldn't even care, but I do, and that scares me sometimes. I hope I'm not that sentimental. Probably not. If I was, then I'd love the Capitol people and not blame them for the Hunger Games. But of course, being from the Districts, of course I do.

I look at the crowd, they probably hate me, because I'm ignoring them, and staring off into space dreamily. Or maybe they think it's cute... But either way, I have to act now. So I turn around and smile. I hear people sighing in the crowd, maybe because of pretty dress. It is pretty. It makes me look like a decorated light bulb. Beau is dressed in a suit that's made of the same material. We look much better than the tributes in front of us, they looks almost constipated in their metal suits. It makes me laugh, and I smile again and wave out, I see some people wave back happily. I don't like them any better, but I'm sure I do. I think I'm doing a good job, and I'm proud of it, I dare say I look like a princess, hopefully not. Beau next to me, follows my example, with a bit of luck. He's very small, and looks eleven rather than thirteen. He smiles and turns around, but he can tell it's not enough. So can I.

I see the girl from District 2, being actually brave enough to sing and dance in her chariot. I would DIE! She's a pretty good dancer, not the best I've ever seen, but she's still good. She's singing a song, which I've never heard. She sings it over and over, swaying her hips from side to side, catching the eyes of the audience, in good way. Both tributes from District 1 stare right ahead, the boy sometimes turns his head, and smiles brightly. But the girl stares straight ahead. I wish I could do the same. I think ahead for my interview. What'll I do that's eye catching. Maybe I'll just be myself, that's what most tributes do. I wouldn't dare think of trying to be sexy. I then look at the crowd, and smile again. Some return the smile, others turn to whisper at each other. I feel like scowling. They're making fun of me, when I'm already going to die. As I look behind me, my hair whips across my face. I hear someone in the crowd sigh, so I toss my head to the other side. People clap, and I realize how nice my hair looks. It's very shiny, for black hair, at least. I bet they think Beau and me are siblings, we don't look alike, but we both have black hair, which is straight. I honestly don't care about how they feel about us, as long as they're willing to let us live, for awhile.

My thoughts turn back to Asher, and I realize how much I miss him. If he was here, I don't think I would be so tense and nervous. I wave to the crowd again, and I realize the pain of the other tributes, coming and going. For as long as I can remember, I've watched the Hunger Games, and seen people die. I've never imagined I'd be in them, let alone die. My mother couldn't stand to tell me. I feel tears in my eyes. I try to picture it's Asher, rather than these ugly people before me, and I can visually see him. His smile, his deep eyes, and him calling my name. I then realize I'm selfish, thinking of only Asher, instead of the rest of my friends and family. Like my sister, Ariel, who really seemed to be broken when I was reaped. And then there are Athena and Oakley...

I miss all my friends, and am most pained that I will most likely never see them again. And Asher. I sigh, I try to tell myself that Mom, Ethan, and Ariel are even more important. But I doubt that. I can't say they are, but maybe... I don't know! It's hard to concentrate, when nearly everyone is staring at your hair and whispering. I jump up and turn around, and wave, and blow kisses for a moment, hoping it's not awkwardly place, but luckily for me, it's not. So I do it again, laughing happily when everyone sighs. They're so stupid! It's not even funny! It's a shame that people like them have to run the Capitol. I try to imagine some of them, slaves of the Capitol, while we relax in nice, classy luxury. But I can't, they would absolutely die! They're all like little kids, helpless, crazy, and going with whatever they learned. How stupid of them.

I want to hate them, and I'm sure I do, but something keeps me back. Maybe it's sensitivity, sentimentalness, or something else, but I can't hate them thoroughly. The girls do smile better than I, and that's on a regular basis. But I argue that's because they don't even know what pain feels like. I know the medication is so good here, that a scratch can't be felt. Most of them don't even get sick because their immune system is so strong, and they don't get fat either, even though they eat almost everything at parties! I wonder what's it like to be a Capitol person, but I can't. Suddenly, I realize I'm once again deep in thought, and I try to turn back to the crowd, who are now cheering their heads off. I move my leg forward, into a rockstar position, and smile as they scream. The poor little retards...

Beau tries to follow me, like a little brother. He stands up, and whistles a tune I don't recognize, maybe cause he's from the other side of town, whereas I'm from the north, he's from the south. We don't do anything differently, they just have different customs than us. We mix, in school, but that's about how far it gets. Since it's hard to walk to someone's house, we usually befriend people from our side. That's how I met Asher and Athena, my best friend and I wish she was my sister. She's even better to me than Ariel, who is good enough. She smiles a lot, and she is always with me. I don't think we've ever disagreed on anything, except she thinks Oakley, our fourth buddy, is better than Asher. I completely disagree with that one. Oakley might be funny, but he's not sentimental, or even so kind for the matter. I mean, he's nice, in a way, but I think he teases too much. He always laughs at me for reading so much. He says it's unnartural for a kid to read so much. I disagree. Reading is fun, especially if you really intrigue yourself into the book. Thankfully, Asher agrees with me, cause he's the nicest boy ever. I mean, most boys are probably more worried about cooties than reapings...

I remember the visits before I left. Asher, Athena, and Oakley came all at the same time. Athena sobbed, and Oakley escorted her out, because she began to cough a lot. But before he left, he promised he'd read a real book, with more than five chapters in it for me. Believe it or not, that's a lot to ask of him. I couldn't say anything. But when Asher and I were alone, I just ran into his arms, and he comforted me, I couldn't help but be so weak. Then I told him. He kissed me on the cheek and smoothened my hair, before his time was up. That's sad. I wish it was my lips that he kissed. I don't why I'm thinking of that now. Maybe cause I'm trying to cheer myself up. So I change positions, and strike a supermodel pose. They cheer, and flowers shower down. I blow a kiss, and pick up a flower. It's a white rose. I shudder.

I am stunned. I remember this is the President's flower. Could he be here, watching me? Is he mad at me? Can I see that I hate the Capitol? I look around nervously. But thankfully, Beau turns toward me.

"What do we do next?"

I am even more stunned for a second. Beau has never truly spoken to me before, and it feels wierd. I smile at him.

"Now, we pull in the big guns" and I spread my legs, and do a bridge. People clap and sigh, I then push back up and wave again. Their eyes are aimed at my skirt, so I turn around, allowing it to fly around as I do. More clapping. Maybe I'm getting sponsors! I look ahead of me, the District 1 tributes are out of league, all the attention is on me, and the girl from District 2, I then raise my hands, and lean backwards, so they can look at me closer. I encourage Beau to follow me. He does and he suddenly performs the most amazing dance move I've ever seen. We all seem stunned. He grins at me, and smiles awkwardly at the crowd. We've won the majority of the crowd. But not for long. Because the boy from District 2 rips off his shirt. We're both stunned, and eyes begin moving. I then smile, and lift my skirt to my knees. The eyes, like bullets, immeadiately dart back to us. I then realize we've won the day, because the end is close, in face, it's right there, right in front of me. I turn, and take a deep bow, before the chariot moves into the darkness, and I hear screams of delight.

**Audrina's POV:**

I immeadiately hop down from the cart as it stops. Thank God. I close my eyes for a second, and try to comprehend what has just happened. Nothing so far. My electric blue cape droops onto the floor. It's classy, but not pretty by any chance. I don't care if it is, or not. I just care that it looks decent. I don't even bother to look behind me, or see anyone. I just want to get back to my room, where I can think. I want to see the picture of my family. I miss them, just the visits weren't enough. I hate whoever gets in the way of my family. So I hate the Peacekeepers and the Capitol. Why shouldn't I?

I sigh and move faster, wishing I could fly away, from this place and the Hunger Games. But I can't, and I must be frank. I look around, other tributes are dismounting as well, and talking to their mentors, I notice a very red-headed girl talking to a taller blonde one, I sigh. They're laughing and smiling, I wish I could be that close to my mentor. My mentor doesn't exactly like me, he likes Robin though, but everyone likes Robin, so I've heard. Maybe cause he's better looking than me, even though I've been to the Capitol, I'm still pale and my freckles still show, which makes it easy to notice if I blush, which is also very annoying. My nose is too pointed, everyone tells me that. My little sister Lavina says so too. She teases me, but she's only six. I don't know where she learns half the stuff she does.

I close my eyes and picture Vale Sorrin and Decca next to me. Decca is my best friend. I can hardly remember when we met. But I do remember comforting her when she was left behind from the community group, and she cried. I comforted her, and after that, BAM, we were friends. Our friendship has grown over the years. She's very sad most of the time, which leaves me with the job to comfort her. I try to give her the most food I have, which I'm glad she takes. She doesn't get to eat much, and she's very abused. Sometimes, I wish she was here with me, cause now I'm the one in need of the comforting...

I look down and take my friendship bracelet, made by Decca from my pocket, thank God it's still there! My stupid stylist, Morena, suggested I should take it off, so they don't think I'm defying them. Well frankly, I don't give if I'm defying them or not! By taking it off, I feel like I'm breaking the friendship with Decca and I, since she holds it completely sacred. She says that with it, we will never at all be apart. I feel a tear sting my eye. I wish I could get to my room already, but they crowd is growing, and I'm shoving through people to even move an inch. Suddenly I feel a hand on my back and I yelp.

"Hush! Do you want them to think I'm abducting you?" whispers a voice harshly.

I freeze and I realize that it's Reynard Aberforth, my mentor. He's standing over me, his eyes bloodshot, but no one would ever know from what. They're always bloodshot. Rumor has it that he was so miserable after doing the Hunger Games, he cried day and night for the entire year. It's creepy, thinking that's what the Hunger Games can do to you. Now that I think about it, once you participate, your life is over. Whether you die or win, it's over. Everything just lost to you. Well, now you have money, and a house, but now what? You'll be a mentor I guess? But then? Will you marry? Maybe. Will you have kids? Why? They'll just be reaped too? Maybe not. But there's still a chance. I didn't take any tessarae, and I got in. Suddenly, I realize it's probably better to die a nice death, than live onto it. But then again, it's better to die than live for most people in my District. I look towards my mentor, and see all of this. He's not in love. He's not married. He's not happy.

"I want to go back" I tell him flatly.

"No you're not! You're going to stay here, understand?" his voice is defensive, and dare I say insulting?

"What?" I'm so surprised by this statement, and the emotion used in it, I can't move, or say anything else.

"That's bad, too leave early is bad. They think you hate them, and then they don't sponsor you. So like I said, stay here, why take the risk?" his voice in gentle, but still stern.

I don't know why he used all that emotion to say that, maybe the rumor is true...

"Oh fine!" I mumble, trying to break away.

Reynard sighs.

"Come on sweetheart. I'm only trying to help you win! And you can't win without the approval of the Capitol people"

"How do you know" I spit back, unintentionally.

"Because my love died that way" he told me.

I shudder, so that's it. That's why he's so broken. That's why he's sad. And I know it's true he wants either me or Robin to win. I can tell. He probably doesn't want to be mentor anymore. He probably just wants to go home to his sister, who is married with three kids. That's who he lives with, we read a little section about him, Robin and I. I sigh and realize that the friendship bracelet is in the palm of my hand. I squeeze it. No one will ever tear apart Decca and I. I wonder how she will react if I die? Maybe she'll cry, because I was her comforter. Maybe she'll stand it. But before I went, I asked my mother to take care of her, maybe even allow her into the family. They wouldn't reject. They would do anything for me, now that I'm gone. I wonder how they feel? Are they hurt, relieved, tired? And what about Lavinia? She's probably too young to understand the Hunger Games, or death. Or maybe not. I love Lavinia, but I don't how she's feeling inside usually, it's hard to tell how a child is feeling. The only thing I can read from their faces, is hurt. And that's how I got to know Decca, and Vale.

When I think of Vale, I sigh, I don't want to. I shouldn't. But I have too! I miss him so much. I miss seing him everyday, right there, in front of me, walking. I bet he doesn't know I exist. That's okay. I love him anyway. I sigh. Love is so blind! You never know, until... Until what? I've never been able to know! I think until you just realize it. I don't even know how I've fallen in love, it seems to have popped out of the sky. Maybe it was out of pity. Because I'd seen his aunt and uncle, who take care of him drinking and laughing, and him trying to scrape the gutters for food. I gave him half of what I had earned, from working. I don't work a ton, but I do once a week. That day, I just told her that the boss was punishing us for being so rude. She got mad at me, but it was worth helping someone. And the look on his face was too die for!

Other than his aunt and uncle, I don't know so much about him. I feel heart-broken when I see any child out on the streets because of him. He taught me to love the people of the streets, without words, or even actions. Just feelings. I do know, however, that he's talented and hard-working, cause we're in the same class. I remember that day on the beach, he was playing in the water, this was years ago. He looked like he was having so much fun. He smiled, and showed his teeth, which were once fantastic. He then waved to me. I blushed madly, and I am positive he noticed. So maybe he did recognize me, I really wish so!

Suddenly I notice the girl from District 2, Metal. I go over to say something, just because I'm bored. I noticed her this morning, muttering under her breath, with her eyes wide open, and her mouth drooped a little.. Then, I figured her name, and I suddenly realize that I've seen her before. I don't know where, I don't know when, I just know I do!

She doesn't notice me as I approach her, and I'm glad. I just want to talk. Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, I remember, that's she's my opponent, and that I have to kill her. I shudder. Maybe not. Maybe I'll make an alliance. I remind myself that I need to watch who I make one with, or I'm going to go nuts. And I certainly won't make it past anything. I need to watch her train, then I'll be one hundred percent sure. But if she does do well, I'll definetly be glad to have her as an alliance, she seems like a cool person, especially after her dance today. She suddenly notices me, and I blush, again. I then smile, to let her know I'm friendly. Hopefully, we'll make a good team.

"Hi" I say.

She greets me in the same manner. I am then stumped what to say, and how to make it sound good?

"How did you do?" I ask unsurely.

She shrugs, and I think she doesn't want to talk. I feel shyness creeping up, and although I'm not shy, I can see she is.

"I saw you, you really pleased the crowd with your dancing" I tell her quietly, but comfortably.

"Thanks. But I think they did better" she then points to the boy and girl from District 3.

"I don't think so" I tell her quickly, staring at the ground for confidence.

She laughs.

"Oh come on with it. I just did what I was supposed to do. I'm sure you did the same"

I suddenly feel sad inside. I think she doesn't like me, and I can't blame her entirely. I'm probably just another tribute to her, waiting to be slaughtered like a pig. So much for an alliance. But I can't just walk away that would be rude. I laugh when I realize I sound like Reynald.

"What?" she asks me, her face a bit brighter.

"Oh! Nothing" I am surprised by quick response, and then shy my face from her, hoping she won't take it personally.

"No,seriously"

"Just, my mentor" I tell her.

"My mentor is nuts" she tells me, staring ahead, with her hair crumpled in her hand, now loosened.

This is a pointless conversation. It's obvious. And I'm sorry I started it, and am about to end it when she says.

"That Robin next to you seems quite nice. That's lucky for you. I got this asshole on my side" I notice the way she cringes when she says it.

"He is?" I ask her and look around.

"That needs no question mark, Sherlock Holmes" she laughs.

I smile softly and pull out my bracelet, I then slip it on. Metal urges more conversation.

"So Drina, where'd you get that bracelet" by the way she says it, it doesn't take a therapist to tell it's forced.

"Oh, my friend Decca" I reply much too quickly.

Suddenly an old looking lady walks up to her, and drags her away. I'm thankful, cause I was running out of things to say. I sigh and turn around, and catch eyes with Robin. He wears a nice blue suit, well at least it looks like a suit, when in reality, it's actually a shirt and pants. He smiles softly, and gazes down. I groan and turn around. I don't want to talk to anyone anymore. I just want to go back and relax. It's very uncomfortable here.

**END OF PART 1**

**Oh my gods, that was long! Eight thousand words! I almost died. To think that's there more. maybe I'll do it a TINY bit shorter, not wanting to disapoint anyone. Anyway, there are no actual changes. I will likely have the next part, in the same time it took to write this one. Sorry if I didn't get yours, and may the odds be ever in your favor**

**~lovethemusic LOVE IT NOW, OR YOUR NOT IN THIS SYOT! :)**


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